The Corollary Theory: The Celebration Aberration
by bfm10
Summary: It's 2029 and the gang is gathering to celebrate the birthday of one of its members. Some things go as planned, some do not and everybody has their own views, feelings and memories regarding the events and people involved. Includes the whole gang, chapters written from different characters' POVs. Canon couples, Raj/OC. AU to season 12.
1. That is what I want

_**A/N: So this is pretty exciting for me. I started thinking and developing the idea for this story in my mind over a year and a half ago. About half a year ago I wrote the first 6 (and a half) chapters (out of 10 planned), when I had a few less intense real life weeks. I knew I won't have time to write until at least March and didn't want a big gap. I thought about waiting a few more weeks but just couldn't. So here we go :)**_

 _ **This is a future story that includes the whole gang. Chapetrs are written from different characters' POVs, meaning there is differing focus on the different characters/couples/families. It is written as spoken language, as if the character is telling the whole thing at the end of the day (that is why some things are written in present tense - a caharacter who was 3 when the events took place, for example, would still be 3 at the time of "narration"). The different characters' POVs also make for different levels of vocabulary and focus. Some will explain and describe things others do not, some will expand on things others do not, according to their characteristics (age, cognitive skills, socioemotional skills, interests, etc.). The name of the POV character will appear at the beginning of each chpater, besides the first one.**_

 _ **The story has a subtitle since my original plan was for this to be a "substory", an exposition for a longer story that goes through the years. I don't know if I'll get to write the other one but I'm keeping the option.**_

 _ **Very special thanks to joyteach who is beta reading for me! I am not a native English speaker. Joyce is, but she is English, so I apologize if there is "non-American" language or any mistakes that escaped both of us. **_

_**On a side note, one of the characters has the same name as a character in two (related) stories by thebigbangtheoryfan2007. This is a coincidence. I've named that character about a year and a half ago. The stories are in no way related and nothing that happened there (besides things that had happened on the show, of course), happened in this story.**_

 _ **Oh yeah, and The Big Bang Theory belongs to Lorre and Prady and all that...I only own the (7) OCs and to some extent Halley and Michael, as they are not exactly characters on TBBT.**_

 _ **Long longggg A/N, but here we go! Hope you enjoy the story. Reviews are very welcome, I apologize if I don't get to thank every reviewer in private, as my RL is intense.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1: That is what I want**

 _May, 2029._

"Tiptoe! Tiptoe!" I heard my sister whisper, followed by several soft stepping sounds, then a stomp. "Maxi!" another frustrated whisper.

"I'm sorry! I'm not good at balancing myself!" Baby Bro whispered back, not good at controlling his volume either.

"It's okay Chubby, you are doing your best," my Mom comforted. "Come on guys, just a few more steps."

"I am not chubby," I heard Maxi murmur and smiled, imagining the adorable pouty face he makes every time he says that. Maxi stopped being chubby more than a year ago but my mom and daddy still call him that.

As I heard the door open I quickly wiped off my smile, turned to lie on my side with my back towards the door and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to ruin it for them. It was hard not to giggle as I felt the four of them nearing my bed.

I felt the bed sink a little behind me and Mom's hand running softly over my body, tender, warm and soothing as always.

"Good morning Cub," came Daddy's soft voice, along with his hand caressing my head, as in every morning.

I turned around trying to fake waking but I could tell from Mom and Daddy's smiles and the look they shared that it only worked on my siblings. But they played along.

"Birthday kiss attack!" they all shouted and started showering me with kisses before I had the chance to slip away, as was the tradition in our family. I squealed and laughed. With Daddy going to my other side, Maxi climbing all over me and Sophie sitting on my feet and holding my legs, I had no way out. And they were sure to put in some tickling too. In this family we take such operations seriously and make sure to consider every loophole we can think of, just like Daddy says you should do when doing research. And Daddy knows best about research. And almost everything else.

"Okay okay I think that's enough, we have exhausted our target," Daddy said a bit later. We all took a second to calm our breathing, still smiling, Maxi settling next to me with his legs under his knees, Sophie and Daddy standing next to Mom again.

"Happy birthday Riley!" Maxi shouted excitedly, jumping in his place.

"Thank you baby bro!" I sat up and gave him a bear hug.

With his tiny little voice, his shiny brown eyes and his freckle-covered face my little brother is the cutest three-year-old ever. Okay maybe next to Sophie when she was three. Although that is a subjective statement, which means it doesn't describe a fact but someone's opinion, and people's opinions differ.

"You were an excellent trooper in this kiss operation!" I ruffled his hair.

"I can't believe my big little baby angel is 10 years old!" Looking at me, Mom shook her head as her voice became squeaky and her eyes got watery. Daddy smiled and rubbed her shoulder. "It feels like yesterday you were inside me." She cupped my face with both her hands, "Makes me want to get you back in there so you'd never leave my side!".

The three of us were creeped out. Daddy shook his head smiling. Mom is cool and collected about lots of things. Loving us kids is not one of them.

"Luckily we have the whole day to spend together, including a shopping trip and a party, so we'd better hurry up and eat our breakfast," Daddy said.

"Ooh Daddy did you make French toast?" I was getting excited, I _love_ Daddy's French toast.

"Why don't you head downstairs and see?" he smiled.

I ran downstairs, the rest of my family following behind. A big grin spread over my face as I smelled my favorite dish. Coming to the kitchen table I saw a big plate with perfectly cut French toast cubes.

"I helped!" Sophie chirped.

Of course she did, only Sophie is capable of cutting such symmetrical pieces.

"Yeah, you helped a lot, Princess!" Daddy smiled and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

This may also explain why they woke me up so late. Not that I had a problem with that. Mom says one of the first things she and Daddy learned about me was that, just like her, I am _not_ a morning person.

"That's wonderful, thank you sissy!" I hugged her.

Mom brought the big grape juice bottle from the fridge. Between her, Sophie, Maxi and me we finished a bottle almost every day. Every now and then Aunt Amy asks Mom if she can take an fMRI scan of our brains when presented with pictures and scents of grape juice and compare them to those of children whose mothers did not "hog the grape juice bottle more than smoking monkeys hog their camels". Whatever that means. Mom always shuts her down with a glare. No one dares to challenge Mom's glares.

"So Cub, do you have an idea of what your birthday purchase is gonna be?" Mom asked.

"Birthday purchase" is another tradition of ours. Like everyone else we do most of our shopping, except for clothes, online. But on birthdays we go to the big shopping center and the birthday girl or boy gets to choose one item, up to 50 dollars, as their gift.

"No, if I did it would be less exciting." I love going through all the different things at the book store and the "All for Kids!" store. Seeing all those things I could buy gives me a tingling sensation.

"I wish you were this excited about clothes shopping," she said.

I rolled my eyes. I'm so grateful to have a sister who is into that stuff, Mom would probably nag me even more about dressing up if it weren't for Sophie. I do like another kind of dressing up - dressing up like fiction characters, but Mom is much less enthusiastic about that.

After finishing breakfast we all washed the sticky syrup covered dishes and changed our clothes. I wore my light blue t-shirt with the periodic table that says "I wear this periodically" (how cool is that?) and my white hoodie with buttons - I promised Mom I would wear something dressy. We then headed to the shopping center using the on-call transportation lines. The transport lines in California are very efficient, a trail usually gets to you 10 minutes after calling and they reach almost everywhere. When we visited Nana and Papa last Christmas we could only get from the airport to the central station in Omaha by lines. To get to the farm Daddy had to drive us in a car like we used to have when I was little.

As we entered the center Mom bent down to look me in the eyes. I knew it meant that she wanted me to listen carefully because she had to bend _a lot_ for that. "Okay Cub, we are going to buy decorations for the party at "All for Kids!". We trust you enough to go to the book store alone if you want to, since it's across from it, but you have to tell us if you do and keep your phone on," she said.

"I will Mommy, thank you," I smiled. "But please don't get any big, flashy decorations. Just a few balloons will be good." Mom tends to "go overboard" when throwing us parties.

"We'll see," she replied, smiling and cupping my face.

We all went into the store where Mom, Daddy and Maxi went to the party section and Sophie and I went to the Comic-book, Fantasy and Sci-Fi section.

Just like every other time we went there I was overwhelmed with excitement. Hundreds of comic-books, hundreds of videogames, of movies, of props, of action figures. All appropriate for kids, which means we are free to look at them all. I stood there, looking at everything with awe for a minute.

When I turned my head I saw Sophie with a face that was probably just like mine, her eyes almost popping out of her glasses. She turned to look at me. We both nodded to each other silently and then ran over to our usual starting point: "The Powerpuff Girls" section.

Grinning widely, eyebrows at the ceiling, we went through all the different products. As usual Sophie searched for Bubbles. She was her favorite. Every time we dress up as the Powerpuff girls or play their videogames Sophie is Bubbles. She also looks a lot like her, blond hair, big eyes. Only she has glasses and her eyes are green like Mom's and mine. I am usually Buttercup. She has big green eyes but her hair is black while mine is brown like Daddy's and Maxi's and also longer.

When our friend Dakota joins us she chooses Bliss, even though she is four years younger than me and a year younger than Sophie while Bliss is older than the other girls. She says Bliss has darker skin like her, but not exactly because Bliss is "dark chocolate" and she is "melt-in-your-mouth caramel".

That leaves Blossom for Michael, Randi, Mia (also our friends) or Daddy, but if it's cosplay Daddy plays the professor or the mayor. Michael sometimes has more choices, like when we play with only Sophie or just the two of us, which happens a lot because he's my best friend. He then chooses Bliss, which fits because he is older than us (he is eleven), and also much taller. He always makes this squeaky high voice when he plays, which is hilarious. His mom doesn't think so because she has this kind of voice, but Michael says she should be honored to be an inspiration of one of his impressions.

Mom says she's more of an honorary Powerpuff. She is usually the narrator, both when we cosplay and when we play the videogames. The narrator only participates at the beginning and the end but Mom says there are no small parts.

Our friend Tivo (whose real name is Stephen but I never call him that) never plays Powerpuff girls. He is convinced that as his Dad says "they are not real superheroes and therefore should not be honored with crime fighting videogames and cosplay." I do plan on playing my Powerpuff videogame today so we will probably hear a lot of protest, along with the usual jabs from Michael's sister Halley.

After going over lots of products of many franchises, including "Star Wars", "Star Trek", "Justice League" and "The Avengers" I made mental notes of possible birthday purchases and decided to check the book store.

Sophie and I went to our parents and Maxi, who was reading the instructions for a giant electronic banner. He is still relatively new to reading and writing and excited about it so he asks to read or write whenever it is needed. I noticed some people looked at him stunned.

"Umm..Excuse me, may I ask how old your son is?" an old lady asked our parents.

"He is three and three months," Daddy answered simply.

"Anything wrong?" Mom asked, seeing the still stunned look on the woman's face.

"I'm sorry, it's just that seeing a three-year-old read is quite an extraordinary sight." The woman smiled.

"Oh. Well..Yeah, it is," Mom answered, caressing Maxi's face and smiling at him warmly, while Sophie and I came near them. "I guess we sometimes forget that. It's just that all three of our children read at that age. Dominant genius genes." She smiled at Daddy, "I had a book on developmental norms that I put away when Riley here was three months. I haven't looked at it ever since," she rested her hand on my head.

"And on top of that they are all so beautiful! You are truly blessed. May God bless you all," the woman said.

Ugh. I hate it when people say I'm beautiful. I hate it I hate it I hate it. It is usually followed by "If you clean up a little you would be just stunning!", "You must be a real boy-magnet!" or "And you are really into all that science stuff? How could this be?". And when they're not saying it, it is usually pretty obvious they're thinking it. At least this woman did not say anything more. She just left after Mom and Daddy thanked her. Meanwhile I was counting to ten silently, trying to calm my anger, that boiling, tensing feeling that spread all over my body. Daddy says most people like being told they are beautiful so when someone says that they think they are complimenting me, and while my reservations have merit it is better for both sides to discuss them calmly when possible.

I hugged Daddy from the side and he wrapped his arm around me and moved his hand up and down my arm. We usually do that after we separate for some time. I was about to tell my parents I was going to the book store when we heard a man's voice call "Professor Hofstadter!". We looked up and saw it was Doctor Rodkins from the Biology department. "Mrs. Hofstadter, Riley, Sophie, and I suppose Max" he greeted.

Sophie and I know many of the people who work at Caltech because we go there with Daddy every time we get a chance. We love touring the Physics department with him, watching all the different things the physicists do. Sometimes we get to see some other departments too, like Neurobiology where Aunt Amy works or Engineering where Uncle Howard works. We like it the most when we get to see Daddy teach or do experiments but that doesn't happen a lot because he is the head of the Physics department. When you're the head of the department you're busy with budgets, funds, grants, planning and human resources issues. Human resources issues are things that concern the department employees which include, unfortunately according to Daddy, Uncle Sheldon's vacations and assigned work. But Daddy manages to find time to do some research and teaching.

"Hi Greg! Always nice to see you. And as I always ask you - please call me Leonard," Daddy shook his hand.

"Hello Doctor Rodkins" Sophie and I added.

"Hello sir Greg" Maxi said simultaneously. He didn't know Doctor Rodkins.

"Hi Greg, how are you?" Mom said.

"I am great, shopping for a surprise gift for my son who won the science fair at his school." he answered with a smile. He then turned to Daddy "So I hear you're doing well recently - one of the top candidates for vice president, that is very impressive!" Doctor Rodkins said.

"Yeah…but I have very good competitors, Professor Wu and Professor Diamant are very well suited for the job. I am honored to be even considered along with them," Daddy answered.

"I won't interrupt your family time for too long but I just wanted to show my support. I believe you will be an outstanding vice president, and later president," Doctor Rodkins winked and then said goodbye to us and walked away.

Daddy told us about the tough competition but I think Doctor Rodkins was right. Daddy is so awesome the people at the university will be making a big mistake if they don't give him the position. That even being an option makes me feel…befuddled.

Now that Doctor Rodkins left I turned to my parents. "I want to go check the book store. My phone is on and not silent nor on vibrate." It's a good thing we're not in Nebraska, whenever I say things like "nor" Aunt Lisa (who is my biological aunt) says I should stop the "genius talk" and start "talkin' like a real kid" if I don't want to get beaten up. Then Mommy gets really mad at her.

"Very good Cub, you can go ahead. If you decide you want to buy your birthday purchase there call us or wave if we happen to look your way. I think we are almost finished here," Daddy said and looked at Mom, who nodded, "so we will wait for your decision. If you decide you want to buy here just come back, if not we'll pay and join you."

"Okay." I said, and went to the book store.

As always there were few people in the book store. Daddy says book stores used to be much more popular but nowadays most people read electronic books and those who read old-style books mostly buy them online like he does sometimes. I like reading old-style books because every book has its own cover, smell, and weight, like elementary school books.

I went straight to the science section, looking for something new to read at school. I know everything they teach at school, I already finished studying the fourth grade curriculum three years ago. When I started first grade I got bored in classes very quickly. Nothing was new to me. It wasn't different from preschool in that sense but in preschool I was allowed to build and draw models, solve math problems or watch TED lectures when the others learned what I knew well. Daddy told me I might get bored at school and asked me to let him know how I felt every day for the first two months, so we could gather data to guide us on what to do, like good researchers. After we got our unambiguous results Mom and Daddy talked to the principal. They said that I could skip a grade, probably more than one, but that might make it difficult for me to relate to my classmates and learn how to socialize, which means getting along with people. They thought it'd be better if I could read more advanced material in class and take older kids tests, and the principal was open to that. So now I study eighth and ninth grade materials I get from the middle school that is part of my school's chain. But I'm also allowed to read my own educational choices for two classes every week. Sadly, comic books don't count as literature, I checked.

Sophie does the same and so does Tivo, but his dad, Uncle Sheldon, is not happy about it. He thinks Tivo should be home schooled until he reaches college level. On the other hand, his Mom, Aunt Amy, wants Tivo to interact with kids his age. Once I heard her yell "He already needs special assistance to communicate with other children and you want to isolate him further?!". "Stephen's is the kind of mind that comes once or twice in a generation," Uncle Sheldon yelled back, "He should be nurtured with the highest quality material available, not distracted by a bunch of mediocre second graders who claim his brilliant backpack organization system is "stupid"." I think Uncle Sheldon is mostly worried about Tivo getting hurt. Every time he walks us to school and says goodbye to Tivo his voice gets quiet and his breathing gets faster.

"Hello darling, may I offer you some help? This section is for grownups, I can show you some books that are appropriate for you. Second grade? First?" the clerk, an older woman, asked with a smile.

"Actually I'm in fourth grade," I answered with a smile, trying not to make her uncomfortable about her mistake. Most people think I'm seven or eight when they first see me. "But I read at college level."

The clerk froze for a second, confused.

"I'm quite smart," I answered, still smiling.

If Mom were here she'd say "Quite a _whooole lot!"_. I guess she'd be right, I am considered genius as defined by intelligence tests. That means there are relatively few kids in the world who are equally smart or smarter than I am. But when Uncle Sheldon talks about him being smarter than anyone but Stephen Hawking, one of the greatest scientists ever, I think it makes everybody feel bad. Some get hurt, some get mad. So I don't want to say things like that. Besides, Daddy says being intelligence tests kind of smart is awesome but there are other skills that are equally or even more important. One time I heard Mom say Uncle Sheldon needs to work on his "getting head out of ass" skills, but I don't think I was supposed to hear that.

"Do you have introductory Sociology books?" I asked the clerk. I mostly read physics and engineering books and papers and sometimes neuroscience, biology and chemistry, but I try to read different things every now and then to expand my horizons.

"Ah..Sure, sure." The clerk nodded slowly and pulled out two books for me. I thanked her and skimmed through the contents.

Opening the second book, I took a quick glance at my family, who seemed to go through the contents of their cart. Suddenly I noticed something from the corner of my eye. Inside the book store, to my right, was a display of picnic kits. There were boards with pictures of couples, kids and families having picnics and reading books together on the stand. I returned the books to their places and walked to the stand. I looked at the kit and saw it included six picnic blankets, a picnic basket and a book - a different one for each one of the three different kits. The kids' one included a "Harry Potter" book I hadn't read yet. These were multiple items but I figured since it was a kit they could be considered as one. And its price was under fifty dollars. I looked back at the sociology shelves, then at the "All for Kids!" store. I called my parents.

A few minutes later my family got to the store, carrying the decorations they bought. Maxi carried a bag almost as big as he is which he probably insisted on carrying. Sophie was grasping the bag she had tightly, careful not to have it touch anything.

"Do we have a choice Cub?" Mom asked, smiling at me.

"Yes. I want this picnic kit. I know it has multiple items but it is one kit," I said with a pleading look.

Mom and Daddy looked at me, and then at each other, surprised. Sophie and Maxi were happy.

Mom turned to me, bent down to look me in the eyes and put her hand on my shoulder. "That is usually something parents buy sweetie, are you sure you want that to be your birthday purchase? You girls spent a lot of time at the Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Comic books section and I saw you looking at some books in here. We can buy this kit, it looks very nice."

"It's just that ever since Uncle Sheldon threw our picnic blanket at that pigeon that he thought was staring at him, and then that cat tore it down, we have been using chairs when eating in the backyard. We still sit close and it is fun but I liked it better when we were all sitting together on our blanket. It just feels more..together. Like our little family bubble. I don't blame Uncle Sheldon, he got scared, and so did the cat. But I want us to sit on a blanket again. This kit has six blankets and a picnic basket, maybe having it will make us have more picnics home or elsewhere. It also has a "Harry Potter" book, you, Daddy, Sophie and I can read it together and Maxi can join us when he's old enough," I explained.

Mommy's eyes glimmered, her eyebrows were arched and her mouth slightly open. This was her "touched" face. I know it well. She had the same face, sometimes with tears, when the guests made speeches on her fortieth birthday party, and when Maxi first told her he loved her, and on Mother's Day when Sophie, Maxi and I made a list of evidence supporting our hypothesis that she is a magnificent mother. I don't know why she had it this time, all I did was explain why I wanted the picnic kit.

"Cub, we will buy it ourselves. You can pick whatever you want," Daddy said as he caressed my hair. He looked touched too.

Sophie and Maxi were looking at the box excitedly, baby bro reading everything there is to read on it.

"But my birthday purchase should be something that I want. I want this kit. With this we could have fun in our little family bubble. And when the gang comes over, or we all go outside together, maybe we could join four blankets and make us a big bubble. That is what I want."


	2. Not playing

_**A/N: Thanks all for reviewing, favoriting and following!**_

 _ **This is another chapter from a kid's POV but not all of them are like that. Also, since there are 10 chapters not every character will have a POV chapter.**_

 _ **Note: Capitalized sentences = strong yelling.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory belongs to Lorre and Prady. I only own the 7 OCs and to some extent Halley and Michael. I may allow borrowing characters for some who want a "fill-in" when writing something minor about the future... - PM me if you're interested.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Not playing**

 _[Michael.]_

"DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHERE THE PRESENT IS? WE NEED THE PRESENT! WE CAN'T GO WITHOUT THE PRESENT!" Mom yelled from downstairs.

"IT'S BEHIND THE DOOR MA!" I yelled back.

"BEHIND THE DOOR? WHY WOULD IT BE THERE?"

"JUST LOOK THERE BERNIE" Dad yelled.

"BECAUSE YOU THREW IT THERE WHEN YOU YELLED AT THE DELIVERY GUY FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR HOLOGRAPH CONFERENCE," I answered. When it comes to work you'd better not disturb my mom.

Of course, my sister had to meddle, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE IT TO YOUR ROOM IDIOT? SHE'S _YOUR_ FRIEND!"

"HALLEY!" came Mom's earth-shattering reproach, "SAVE THAT FOR SCHOOL."

I looked at the outfit options I had laid down on my bed. Riley sure wouldn't mind my outfit, she barely notices such things. It is her party we're going to but I'm pretty sure she would just wear that white buttoned hoodie and say she's "dressed up". But I wanted to wear something nice. My best friend is starting a new decade in her life. Not that I need too much of an excuse to dress up.

The green plaid shirt and the black jeans make me look a little older, at least twelve. The light blue t-shirt works great with the light brown jacket and blue jeans. Mom says I'm really foxy in my new red shirt with the white buttons. I wish I could wear a suit, I always feel awesome when wearing a suit. Aunt Penny says I'm like a younger, dark-haired version of some character from a sitcom she used to watch. "Just beware of the womanizer part okay sweetie?" she once told me. I just nodded. I don't want to mess with Aunt Penny, although she is not as scary as my mom.

Looking at the outfits over and over for some excruciating minutes, I finally decided to go for green shirt and black jeans. It goes well with my eyes.

I still beat my dad and sister preparing for the party. Not that it was hard. Dad takes quite a lot of time to get ready, even though his choices are not exactly fashionable, or, to use Halley's words, "capital E embarrassing". Halley takes forever. She always looks as if she got out of a teen magazine. Every single item she wears is as trendy as can be and matches the others perfectly. Her light brown hair always doneperfectly. After her Bat-Mitzva five months ago she asked our parents if she could start wearing heels, using her height (or lack of height) as an excuse. Mom quickly shot her down. She should have asked Dad alone. He was visibly bothered by her question, but he wouldn't be able to refuse his little superstar and she would have gotten to wear heelsuntil Mom found out.

"Well well well, look at you, as handsome as expected of a Wolowitz man," Dad said in a low voice as he entered my room. "You should consider this outfit for that birthday party this teammate of yours is having. I'm sure it would have the desired effect on the ladies. Catch them staring at you, flash them an "I see you babe" smile and nod, they come over and you go BAM! Neil Michael Wolowitz, tall, smooth, basketball player, Warlords of Ka'a master."

Dad has been making those speeches and asking about "the ladies" since I turned nine. He thinks getting "the evasive Wolowitz tall genes" will make me irresistible to girls. When I got into the school's competitive basketball team this year he said, in his low voice, that I was gonna be "a real player". I still don't know what that means but I think it was something related to girls 'cause Mom yelled at him and slapped his arm and Aunt Penny shot him a glare. Maybe it has something to do with that womanizer thing.

I think some of the girls in my class are cute. Natalie has this long blond hair and shiny blue eyes, Jenny always smells nice. There are rumors that Violet is now wearing bras and I admit I took some glances after hearing that. I worked with Trish on a lab project recently and it was kinda fun. She laughed this cute laugh at all my jokes and even touched my arm for like 4 Mississippis. But she got really quiet and to-the-point in our last class working on the project. I'm not sure why. I remember Riley entered the lab that class to do some ninth grade chemistry experiment she wasn't allowed to do without supervision. We were joking about her being in class but not in class, like in a parallel dimension, and that I would have to fight all these monsters and go through wormholes to reach it. That was one of the most fun lab classes I ever had. Then Trish said, "How 'bout you focus on this dimension?". From that moment on it felt like she was giving me the silent treatment. She only talked when it was necessary for the project. After we finished the project she never spoke to me again. Maybe she didn't like Sci-Fi?

Anyway, I was never this passionate about girls and flirting as my dad was. But I play along.

"Yeah that will have a major effect! " I high-fived him.

"Are you giving him one of those "Wolowizard talks" again?" Mom asked as she entered my room. She then fixed some of my stray hairs, taking a step back to look at me. I am now a little bit taller than her. She smiled, content, and turned to my dad. "I told you he is still too young for that. Give him two, three years."

"Honey he is a Wolowitz man, we are born ready for the ladies. It's in his nature, I am just giving him a few tips so he could knock a girl off her feet before she got to say 'Hi', like I did to you," he said smiling and caressing her shoulder.

Mom looked unimpressed, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. "I got to say way more than 'Hi' on our first date. The only thing that saved that date was both of us being aggravated with our mothers and having morally questionable wishes for them."

Dad's face fell. I couldn't help but laugh. It's always funny when Mom shoots Dad down.

"Hey I thought you wanted me to teach you new magic tricks for the party!" he turned to me. "You already got me wondering if you have what it takes to be a magician when you told Riley,teeny tiny Riley, how to do all the tricks you know, thus endangering the most sacred thing magicians have - mystery. So don't try me!" He pointed his finger at me and raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry, sorry," I raised my hands. Mom and I smiled at each other. "Please teach me master." I bowed.

I honestly don't know why I told Riley all those magic secrets. I wish I could say she tortured me to get them out, or messed with my mind, but she just asked me, looking up at me with those big eyes, and I just answered.

"Howie you are the living proof people can do things they don't have what it takes for doing, like going to space." Mom kissed Dad's cheek and sat on my bed as I got the magic equipment out. We both snickered.

"Since we don't have much time I will forgo this slight but I demand to be credited for that in future arguments," he said in his "civil"voice.

"Okay, this one is called the dove pan. I used to do it with a real live dove but… I learned it was better to substitute the dove for a drone. Bernie would you fly the drone for us?" he asked as he handed Mom a remote.

"Sure."

"All right. See, first you show the audience this pan is completely empty. You should be careful to push the inside tray up," he instructed, and I followed.

"Good. Now you close it and then open, this time with the inside tray down."

We opened the tray and suddenly a white drone flew out, widely circling my room. The three of us dropped to the floor.

"Easy Bernie!" Dad screamed.

"It's not me! It's going on its own!"

After taking a deep breath, Dad crawled and took the pan. Shaking, he stood up. With a high pitched scream he opened the pan, captured the drone inside and turned it off.

"Okay, I think we'd better move to the next one," he said, calming his breathing.

We agreed.

The following tricks didn't go much better. Broken pitchers, slippery coins, rusted metal rings. It turned out the only tricks that had working equipment were the ones I taught Riley.

"You know what, Mikey? I've got a better idea for party entertainment," Mom suddenly said and walked out.

"I wonder what that is," Dad said as he sat down on the bed next to me. Suddenly his eyes went wide. "Oh no! Oh please no! Oh _God_ no!"

"Who's ready to have a good time?" I heard a voice similar to Mom's say in a mid-west accent. Immediately, a ventriloquist's doll appeared at my door.

Without any explanation, Dad ran out of the room.

"Oh come on you big Wolowizard! I heard you can knock girls off their feet in no time, and my feet are really bothering me, they're so stiff!" Mom followed Dad, still voicing the doll.

I laughed for what seemed like hours. I heard Halley laughing too when they passed her room.

Eventually we decided to pass on the doll. Dad couldn't stand next to it without shuddering. With Halley finally prepared, dressed up in her bright pink dress, new black shoes, a thin pink hairband with a black bow in her hair, we got into the on-call transport line. We could've walked to the Hofstadters' house, I do it all the time, but we were late already.

"So Mikey, your school's weekly update said your teachers were consulting you guys on a new middle school preparation plan for next year," Mom said.

"Yeah some kids said they wanted to visit there every month. But I think it's kinda stupid, the middle school is just across the fence. It's not like it's this galaxy far far away."

"Starting middle school is big Mikey. You're gonna have a new class, meet some new kids, be the youngest in the school. I'm sure Halley would have liked it if she'd had better preparation last year."

Halley nodded, just to be on Mom's side.

"I'm sure he will find his place," Dad said. "As soon as makes the basketball team everything will be great."

Dad thinks being in a sports team is the solution to everything. Not that I'm afraid of not fitting in when I go to middle school. I do fine with the kids in my class, even well. Humor helps, as well as knowing with whom to talk or avoid talking about this and other stuff and knowing how to play along, and I guess not being short and yes, being on the basketball team, helps some too. I also do very well in classes, and that gives me more time to hang out with my friends because I finish my homework quickly and barely have to prepare for tests. I don't think any of that will change in less than a year and a half.

But I won't be at the same school as Riley anymore because she's a year younger, and that sucks. I like hanging out with her between classes and at recess. It's not that I spend every possible second with her. Last year I realized that the kids in my class thought it was weird that I spent so much time with "that little kid". They didn't know what they were talking about. Riley is ten times more mature than them, a hundred times smarter than them and a thousand times cooler. But I didn't want to become an outcast so I played along. Riley and I found some places where most kids don't go and decided on set meeting times. Uncle Sheldon would have been so proud had he heard about that. There's a place in the backyards of the elementary and middle schools where we could probably talk a little through the fence, but it won't be the same.

When Halley moved to middle school I was much happier. She quickly got her position as Queen Bee, just as she had in elementary. Always followed by at least two girls, always getting boys to carry her backpack. Capable of elevating or destroying other kids in a second. Not that I was worried, or even cared about her getting her position in middle school. I was just happy she was away from Riley, her arch enemy for no fault of her own. In school, with the parents away, Halley had many more chances to torment Riley. From comments about her thinking she is better than everybody (what?!), being a lame nerd or practically a boy (ugh), burying herself in books because nobody likes her (totally untrue!) to "accidental" (if there are teachers around) or very purposeful (no teachers) throwing of different drinks and food at her, Halley was sure to hurt Riley whenever she came across her. The only times when Riley was safe were when the parents were around. Halley would be all nice and cutesy at those times.

No matter how much I tried to convince her, Riley wouldn't say a word. "It's fine," she keeps saying. As far as the parents are concerned, Halley just doesn't like to play with us because she is older and not into the things we like. I thought about telling myself but I knew I wouldn't stand a chance against Daddy's little superstar, Mom's tough gal, Uncle Raj's queen or everyone else's candy-sweet girl. I once tried to sneak a recorder into Riley's backpack but she caught me right away. "It's fine. Really." Now Halley has fewer chances to hurt Riley but she still manages to do so just before school starts and sometimes through the fence. I may have things going for me, but when it comes to this I feel like a total loser.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Halley asked, irritated.

"Like how?" I played innocent. But as my parents turned their heads away I did give her a look. Judging by her reaction she knew what that one was about.

We got to the Hofstadters' and rang the bell, Halley standing in front of Dad and smiling her fake sweet smile.

"Hi guys! Come in!" Aunt Penny greeted with a big smile and made room for us to step in.

The living area was filled with balloons, regular, with one and zero shapes and spelling "Riley". There were also two banners reading "Happy Birthday" and three small signs with the number ten. On the wall above the kitchen door leading to the back yard was a big electronic "Happy Birthday" banner with flashing letters. Riley clearly didn't manage to get her mom to tone down. The Cooper-Fowlers were already there but with Aunt Anaya out of the country, Uncle Raj and Kotie were obviously late. Uncle Raj would say they were "fashionably late" but everybody knows they take forever to decide how to style Dakota's hair and whether she should add glitter to her outfit.

"Look at you girl! That's such a cute dress!" Aunt Penny told Halley.

She twirled like a pro. "Thank you very much, Aunt Penny!"

Aunt Penny clapped for her and turned to me. "And how are you doing there handsome?"

"All set to par-tey!" I nodded, smiling.

"Hey Uncle Howard, Aunt Bernie," Riley said, grinning, as she came in from outside, wearing her white buttoned hoodie. I knew it.

"Hey birthday girl! Congratulations!" Mom said and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"The big ten zero huh punk?" Dad smiled and high-fived her.

"Hi Halley"

"Riley happy birthday! May all your wishes come true!" Halley put on that fake smile again and hugged her. Yuck.

"Michael!" Riley ran to me and we started our special greeting, hand shake, fist bump with one hand then the other, high five with one hand then the other, then both. Meanwhile Uncle Leonard came in from outside and greeted my family.

"We got you this!" I said with a big grin. Not so much because of the gift but just because whenever I'm with Riley smiling comes so easily. Maybe it's because everything is so comfortable and easy with her. With Riley I'm not playing. I mean, we do play games. But I'm not pretending to agree with, or be into, or to like things I don't. I play with my Dad, with the kids in class, with Halley (mostly when I just want her to leave me alone), with Mom, sometimes with others in the gang. With Riley I never play.


	3. I take on the challenge

_**A/N: So it's Saturday and here's another chapter. Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited and followed :) and of course, to my beta reader joyteach.**_

 _ **P.S: I knew Neil Michael's name before posting, but until then I actually called him Neil, thinking of Diamond, Sedaka and Armstrong. Still a little bummed they will be calling him Michael, but what-do-you-gotta-do.**_

 _ ** _As always, The Big Bang Theory and its characters belong to Lorre_ and Prady yada yada yada... I only own the 7 OCs and Halley and Michael to a certain extent, as neither is much of a character on the show. I may approve borrowing my OCs if anybody needs a fill-in or something like that (PM).**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: I take on the challenge**

 _[Amy.]_

"We're…here! Time to get the party started!" Rajesh Koothrappali said, jumping in with his daughter Dakota in tow as soon as the door opened, both grinning, then dancing a little to no music.

"No. The party has already started, at four pm, the starting hour stated in the invitation. Granted, it was an oral, informal invitation reeking of laziness, as is usual for the Hofstadter family, nevertheless four pm was the hour the party started. The hour at which my family and I arrived at the Hofstadter household and at which you all failed to arrive," my husband Sheldon stated, crossing his hands, not forgetting to gesture to every single Wolowitz and Koothrappali family member in the room. Together with the Hofstadters and us, the Cooper-Fowlers, we are this super cool group of four friend-families, eight adults and eight children. We hang out together on a casual basis, but today we gathered to celebrate one of the Hofstadter kids' birthday.

Sheldon's statements, as usual, were met with sighs, head shakes and eye rolls.

"Dude, you live next door!" Raj exclaimed.

Not that he was wrong, but we would have been here just on time even if we'd lived five hundred miles away. In fact, we could have been there earlier but Sheldon insisted on leaving our house at exactly 15:59 and 15 seconds so we would be right on time. I love his punctuality. What I am less fond of is his insistence on taking the longer path to the Hofstadters', going through their front door, instead of the door in the fence that joins our backyards. No matter how many times the Hofstadters told him it was okay (as long as he knocked and was granted permission), he would not use it. And this insistence has rubbed onto our seven-year-old son, Stephen. Luckily, our three-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, still goes through that door with me.

"Well we are all very happy that everybody is here now and ready to celebrate." My bestie Penny Hofstadter, mother of the birthday girl, tried to lift the spirits back up, which obviously worked. Penny excels in the domain of social interaction, and partying has always been one of her areas of expertise. The ways of her partying have, however, changed over the years, which I find unfortunate. Those days when she, our friend Bernadette Rostenkowski Wolowitz and I would go to a bar or a dance club, drink a decent amount of alcohol and then have more drinks courtesy of men who tried to "score" with Penny, brought a whole lot of excitement for me.

Everyone then came over to greet Raj and little Kotie, including birthday girl Riley, her younger sister Sophie, the Wolowitzes' son Michael and my Stephen, who probably heard the two coming from upstairs. My son has got his dad's sharp hearing.

We all then settled down, adults in the living room, kids upstairs except the two youngest and Halley Wolowitz, who was sitting at the kitchen island, probably watching fashion videos.

Lizzie then came to me, "Mommy, may I get a bobby pin like Kotie's?"

Raj answered before I could "Oh I doubt that sweetie-pie, Kotie's has real diamond in it and we have been working on adding to it just the amount of glitter that makes it princess-y enough yet not tacky."

This made us all look at him, weirded out. Well, all but Sheldon who shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Let me guess that this, together with meeting other ridiculous grooming demands from your child, is what resulted in your being more than an hour late."

"Forgive me for wanting my girl to look like the magical princess she is!" Raj retorted.

"While I have strong reservations about her "connect to your roots" philosophy, I am thankful for Anaya's ability to keep you in line and to put limits, however mild, to your pampering of your daughter. Without her influence that child would become a spoiled brat."

"Sheldon!" I interjected.

"What?"

"That is a mean, hurtful thing to say!"

"I was only speaking the truth. It is for his good. He should be grateful for having a brilliant friend who is able to illuminate his erroneous ways, thus saving him from the horrors of ignorance and further wrongdoing."

"Oh thank you very much my savior, how will I ever be able to express my profound gratitude?" Raj asked venomously.

"There's a new Batman issue com-"

"Sarcasm" the others groaned in unison.

"Oh." he paused, "You all seem to be very cranky today. Did you happen to eat something bad, made by Penny I assume, and are now having stomach aches?"

Penny squinted her eyes at him.

"No Sheldon! It's just that sometimes we forget how obnoxious you can get!" Penny's husband Leonard groaned.

"How could you say that? I am a delight. And while it is true that you do not always appreciate my contributions, you usually groan or roll your eyes and move on."

I sighed, "Sheldon, this is not the same. People's children and their parenting are a very sensitive and important issue to them. You cannot just say what you said, the way you said it, and in this situation. Remember that lady at the restaurant three years ago, when Stephen had a tantrum because there was no tangerine chicken?"

Sheldon went silent for a moment, his face falling.

He turned to Raj, "I am sorry Rajesh."

Being with Sheldon can be utterly exhausting at times. His outstanding mind can crack the most complex equations and come up with tremendously inspired theoretical formulations of the workings of the universe. Yet when it comes to social and emotional affairs, what is crystal clear to others can be a complete mystery to him. All those things that people take for granted - things like understanding how others are feeling or predicting how they might feel, like understanding why this or that has happened and how to change it, like adjusting his behavior to fit the situation he is in and the message or feeling he is trying to convey - all these do not come easily to him.

I am not exonerating Sheldon of each and every hurtful, demeaning or otherwise inappropriate comment or action he makes. Part of what he said to Raj is probably a result of his desire to hold on to the belief that he is superior to others in every domain he deems important. But not all of it. I believe all of our friends think that Raj is pampering Dakota to some extent, and that his wife's, Anaya's, ability to balance him out and pull his feet to the ground is a blessing. But they wouldn't say it that way and in this context, and part of that is because they can tell how hurtful that would be.

Sheldon needs others to guide him through these things. To help him overcome his true deficiencies. He had his mother, then Leonard, then Penny for that before me and he still has all of them. But as our relationship has slowly, slowly, slowly developed, it has increasingly become my responsibility. Shedding light on the parts of life that are obscure for him, guiding him, helping him cope with his difficulties. It is not easy, it never was. Sometimes it is straight out hard.

To be honest, by the time I signed our relationship agreement and became his official girlfriend for the first time, I already knew, more or less, what I was getting myself into. What I also knew was what an amazing man Sheldon was. Undoubtedly, the most amazing man I have ever known. Ever since we first met I was in awe of Sheldon. He knocked me off my feet. Such an extraordinary mind, with almost super-human capabilities. Such a passion for science (well, at least for the fields he appreciates). Such sense of power. Such conscientiousness. Deep blue eyes, pale skin, cute small smile, all that height. And those quirks, cute as a button! (Well, most of them).

When I met Sheldon I wasn't shining in the social sphere myself. Far from the social butterfly I have become since, with a divine blond as my bestie, I thought Sheldon and I would find out all about socializing together. That would be hot, I thought. However, it quickly turned out that I was a much faster social learner than he was. At times it made things more difficult, because as my social skills and awareness improved I could see his struggles more clearly. But at the same time, I fell even more in love with him. And he has come a long way and has become even more amazing than he was before. Being with Sheldon is a challenge, but it is a challenge I am willing to take on.

A couple of moments after the Sheldon incident of the day, things picked up again. "The gang", that's what we call our neat group, was used to these things happening and we have learned how to get back on track. After talking about our weeks we started debating which animal species would be the best overlord to humans, should an animal species take over.

Sheldon insisted on Koalas, claiming their cuteness would make every demand they made _bear_ able. That was _hilarious_ so I had to agree with him.

Howard Wolowitz said snakes, because they have two penises so they would allow taking time off work to "relieve tension". That was followed by about two whole minutes of silence and disgusted looks, and his wife Bernadette glaring at him.

"Flamingos. They're so elegant, what with the way they stand on one leg all serene and regal," Raj answered.

"Rats are surprisingly compassionate. There was once an experiment where rats were only fed if they pressed a lever that would shock another rat. They refused to do so," Leonard suggested.

"Whichever does not talk about animals ruling the world," Penny said, and then got up. "All right, time for some birthday fun. I'm going to get the kids."

It wasn't long until we heard rushing footsteps. Penny had Raj organise a little science bowl and the kids were excited. Most of the adults in the gang are scientists. Sheldon and Leonard are physicists, Bernadette a microbiologist, Raj an astrophysicist and I am a neurobiologist.

Normally, Penny wouldn't be the tiniest bit as excited as she was. She was one cool girl. But this was for Riley, and when it came to her kids Penny was as giddy as the guys were about comic books. It was a curious phenomenon, as if a switch turned on in her brain whenever her kids were involved. As a neurobiologist it has me tremendously intrigued, but Penny threatened to lock me in my lab with "whatever freaked out animals they have" if I ever tried to scan her brain.

We divided into three groups by family, Raj and Kotie being the hosts. Just like her father, that little girl really liked taking over the mic.

We have done this many times before and the course of events didn't seem to be any different this time: Bernadette got intense, her competitive nature making her increasingly vicious, shouting at her family for not answering complex physics questions, not being fast enough to press the buzzer or being too busy scratching their heads, stretching or blinking; Raj and Kotie using various special effects on the screen and the house lights and adding rap and dance bits every five questions; and all of it eventually getting down to us versus the Hofstadters, or me, Sheldon and Stephen versus Leonard and his girls.

Working at the promotion department at Caltech Penny did know some basics but would happily take on the role of her family's cheerleader, showering them with exaggerated praise. The few basic questions were reserved for Lizzie and for Maxi Hofstadter (three as well) who were ecstatic about being able to contribute.

The Wolowitzes were smart, that's for sure, but Sheldon had a wider knowledge base than Howard and Bernadette, and their kids were not at the level of ours. Leonard, being head of the Physics department at Caltech, has participated in conferences with the rest of the department heads and thus has broadened his knowledge. His girls were fine competitors as well, especially Riley. That girl was curious about basically everything. She would always ask us "aunts and uncles" about our work and we would always answer. Teaching her was a delight. Whenever we got to the final stages of a competition like this one Sheldon would whisper to me that we should stop doing that but I knew he wouldn't, he was too keen to talk about his work and out of our friends' kids, or all kids but ours, she was his favorite. Sophie was the Hofstadters' ace when it came to the "Operation Round" - a special round at the final stages where we would simulate an operation on a neural network using a special app. I have been doing these things for decades but Sophie was so gentle and careful and, being seven, had much smaller hands so she would always win.

We just finished the operation round, Sophie beating me as usual, when things went off course. The lights suddenly went off and on again and the whole computerized system rebooted. That was weird, we hadn't had a blackout for years. Unfortunately, the software didn't add up the scores from this round and went back to the first question.

"I guess we'll have to call it a tie…" Leonard said, somewhat dejected.

Raj, Dakota and the Hofstadters seemed disappointed, especially Maxi, who was now cuddled by his mother, who appeared more upset than I expected. Howard and Michael looked disappointed as well, while Bernadette and Halley both looked satisfied.

I tensed up. I knew I had some hard work coming.

It wasn't Sheldon I was worried about. Yes, he twitched. Yes, he crossed his hands, murmured that we would have won as we did most of the times, and withdrew into himself. But I knew this would pass. I wasn't worried about Lizzie either, she took such things well enough.

It was Stephen. My beloved Stevie had a hard time dealing with unpredicted events and things remaining unconcluded.

My Stevie wasn't a typical boy. I started noticing it when he was a few months old. I noticed that his communication patterns were different, that he was powerfully drawn to certain objects and had a hard time letting them go, that he had a hard time with the slightest changes to his routine and that his reactions to noises and physical touch were much stronger than those of his peers.

Sheldon said these were all signs of genius and that his son was a homo-novus just like him, not to be compared with other, less advanced homo sapiens toddlers. That did not have the slightest effect on me. The Hofstadter girls were brilliant as well but they did not act like that. My Stevie could count at 14 months, but he did not look me in the eye when he talked to me and did not gesture until he was 20 months. Going to crowded places with him was impossible. And if I tried taking a slightly different path when walking to his daycare he would scream at the top of his lungs and I would feel my head pounding as if a marching band ran over me.

When Stevie was almost two he was diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder. That is a developmental disorder, characterized by persistent deficits in social interaction and communication, such as deficits in initiating and/or responding to social interaction, differences in facial expression, eye contact and body language and deficits in understanding these things, and deficits in developing and maintaining relationships and adjusting behavior to fit the social context - all symptoms Stevie has; and restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interest or activities - for Stevie these are mostly strict routines, intense focus on things like trains and zippers and hypersensitivity to sensory input, especially noise and touch.

Yes, I know this sounds like my husband. Yes, I think he is aware of that.

Stevie has been through various types of interventions with various types of professionals. He also has an assistant in school, Zoe, to help him interact with the other children and follow social dynamics. He has made and is still making a lot of progress and I am grateful for every bit of professional help we get. But they are not his parents. They are not the ones who take him home at the end of the day. They are not the ones who will be by his side for, hopefully, most of his life. They are not the ones who love him with every cell in their bodies. It is I and Sheldon who are leading this group effort to help our son deal with an environment that is shaped for people who are different from him in significant ways. Sheldon may define the goals and problems in different ways and we may argue about the ways to achieve them, but I know he is with me in this.

My Stevie is high- functioning. There are other kids with ASD whose symptoms are much more severe and who need much more help than he does. Still, he needs a lot of help. He needs me to explain in detail things that most people would never think of as requiring explanation. He needs me to help him calm down when things do not go his way. He needs me to encourage him to do things that are difficult for him and to face his fears. He needs me to be his guide, his shelter and his source of power. He needs me.

I also need him. I need his smiles, I need his hugs, I need his sincere gratitude and appreciation. Stephen is a lot like Sheldon. He is absolutely brilliant, he has an eidetic memory, when he delves into a certain topic he can reach an almost expert level of knowledge about it, and he is able to find inspiring solutions to serious scientific problems. He also has Sheldon's dark hair and blue eyes. But there is a prominent difference between them: their treatment of other people. I cannot tell the actual extent of Sheldon's desire to be liked and socialize but he does not show much of that desire. He can be very unappreciative, hurtful, and even obnoxious. Stevie, on the other hand, may prefer being alone at times and being around many people can be hard and scary for him, but it is easy to see that he is eager to have friends, that he wants people to like him, that he wants to interact with them, understand their ways and relate to them. He regularly shows appreciation of the people around him and shows a lot of affection to those he cares about the most: his nuclear family, his Mee-Maw Mary and the Hofstadters. And when he does that you can feel it is a hundred percent sincere. It comes from the bottom of his heart.

My wonderful boy may have his many struggles, but he also has a buttload of strengths. And when he refers to me as the captain of his "life-ship", and tells me I once again navigated it to its destination successfully, all those things I do for him, all the efforts that I make 24/7, all the frustrations, the worries, the exhaustion - it all feels like peanuts.

I've also learned, through trial and error, what works better for Stevie. So when he started shouting repeatedly that we must finish the game, I used one helpful technique to calm him: I held him silently, rocking gently. He soon stopped shouting and then composed himself.

Suddenly I heard a small, gentle voice an inch to my right. "Hey Stevie, umm..there are snacks now on the table and we are trying to decide which order of eating them would be the best. Are you feeling well enough to join us now?" Sophie asked in a characteristically polite way. Suddenly noticing that Sophie is right by you is nothing unusual. Sheldon always says her movements are pleasantly feline.

"Yes, may I join you?" Stevie asked.

"Yes, that was an invitation," Sophie smiled.

"Thank you," he replied and turned to me, "Mom I am joining my friends' discussion now, thank you for helping me." He then hugged me quickly and went with Sophie before I managed to respond.

I looked at him now in deep discussion with his friends, voicing his opinion, responding to others, being heard and hearing others, being part of the interaction. Penny then passed by and smiled at him. I couldn't make out what she was saying because of the conversations being held around me, but I saw him smile back. Leonard then came with some juice bottles and fist-bumped him after setting them down.

Our friends are certainly an important part of Stevie's "life-ship" crew, especially the Hofstadters. Not just Leonard and Penny. The kids, mostly Riley and Sophie, are just as crucial. Zoe has consulted us at various times about that. Stephen goes to the girls many times at recess. He would usually seek Sophie for play and would tell her about the second grade curriculum. Riley he would seek mostly for comfort and advice. She is like a big sister to him, they even agreed on being "pseudo-siblings". Zoe says many of the children, and some higher grade teachers, mistake them for actual siblings. But while we feel it is wonderful that Stephen has friends to go to, friends that he feels comfortable with and who accept him and involve him in their activities, it puts us in a dilemma (to be precise, Zoe and myself, Sheldon does not see a problem with this). Is it detrimental to his relationships with his classmates? Should Zoe stop him doing that in order to get him more involved with his classmates? For now, she once a day encourages him to play with his classmates instead.

There was one day though, a few months ago, in which I learned that Riley may be playing an even greater role than I had thought. I was analyzing data from an experiment when I got a video from Zoe. Along with it was a text explaining that Stevie got a little scratch while she was talking to his teacher for the first five minutes of recess. She was told by another teacher that he was crying and screaming, saying that millions of germs were infecting him. That did not surprise me and I suppose it didn't surprise her either. Stevie is very sensitive to pain and is germophobic like his father. Zoe's text ended with "I ran to the playground and found this". I played the video. A familiar tune immediately sounded, with the image of Stevie resting his head on Riley's knees while she drew circles on his back singing, "Soft kitty, warm kitty little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty purr purr purr…". I burst out crying.

Remembering that event now I almost started tearing up, when Sheldon and Stevie suddenly came running to me, wide eyed. "Amy!" "Mom!" they said at the same time.

"Our daughter has made an agreement of monumental consequences! Your urgent assistance is required!" Sheldon panicked.

"What? What kind of a monumental agreement can a three-year-old make?" I asked, dumbfounded.

I got up from the couch and went to the back of the living area, where Lizzie was playing with scientist dolls and lab accessories with Maxi. These two, only a month apart, are almost inseparable, which I think is great. Lizzie appears to be neurotypical, she does not require so much help to socialize, but she is still much, much smarter than all of her peers, except for Maxi. These two know everything there is to learn at their preschool and are more into drawing molecules than assembling 30-piece puzzles. Having each other, they are never alone, unlike Stevie. While Stevie is only seven months older than Sophie, they were born in different years. Hence, they are in different grades.

I sat down next to the kids, Sheldon and Stephen standing behind me (apprehensively, I assume). "Lizzie, sweetheart,"

"Yes Mommy?" she looked at me with her emerald eyes and big, innocent smile.

I moved a strand of her honey blond hair behind her ear, "Daddy told me you have made some sort of agreement. Can you tell me what it was about?"

"I didn't make an agreement." She looked at me and tilted her head, puzzled.

"Do you remember what you told Daddy about a minute ago?" That was a rhetorical question, of course she remembered, she has an eidetic memory.

"Yes," she nodded, "I told him Maxi and I will get married when we are big."

"Older," Sheldon corrected.

I glared at him and turned back to Lizzie. "Oh really?" I glanced at Maxi, who looked at us with his innocent brown eyes.

"Yes, I told Maxi that after the computer went down, and he said 'cool'."

"I see. Well this is a nice plan, Pumpkin. Maybe it will happen. Now you two keep playing, I can see you are working on an important experiment here."

"We are working on a medicine that would cross the blood brain barrier in two seconds!" Maxi chirped and Lizzie jumped excitedly.

"Way to go!" I said, got up and then got back to the couch.

"'Nice plan Pumpkin'?! Amy, are you out of your mind?! You were supposed to put an end to this nonsense! While Max Hofstadter may be a decent candidate for our daughter when they grow up, he still carries a substantial amount of questionable genetic potential. He might grow up to be lazy, spiteful, short, which he in fact already is, asthmatic, irrational and a Babylon 5 fan!" Sheldon was appalled.

I patted the couch to signal him and Stephen to sit down. Sheldon, they are three years old. This does not count as an agreement and no one would ever enforce it. They are just playing, this is normal for kids this age. Please calm down, both of you. When the time comes, Lizzie will make her decision based on her situation then, not on a conversation she had when she was three." Although I sure wouldn't mind having precious Maxi Hofstadter as a son-in-law, and becoming family with my bestie!

They looked at each other, silently considering my words, and then nodded.

Sheldon then turned to me "Very well Amy, if you think this is okay then we believe you. When it comes to social interactions you are our trusted guide and leader."

Stevie smiled and nodded.

I grinned. Sheldon and Stephen are hard work. I cannot deny this. But they are both amazing people, and moments like this, when they express their honest feelings, make it worth it all.

More than 17 years ago I took on the challenge of being with Sheldon. This decision implied taking on the challenge of being Stephen's mother. But I think of it as a decision I am making every day. And no matter how hard it may be, I make the same decision every day. Every day I am the wife and the mother of extraordinary people. Every single day, wholeheartedly, I take on these challenges.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Important note here. There's a saying that goes "If you've met a person with ASD, you've met a person with ASD", meaning one should not generalize from one person with ASD to another. There is a great variability among people with ASD. Different ASD people experience and show different manifestations of ASD and they are also their own people, with their unique characteristics. Stephen is his own "person" (character) and has his own ASD characteristics (Amy here cites the criteria but refers to what her son manifests) along with his own personal characteristics. Stephen is Stephen. Please, do not take his character as some standard of ASD.**_


	4. Constant work

**_A/N: New chapter time!_**

 ** _When I wrote this one, back in October, I thought by the time I publish I would have to make major changes, to replace my OC with whoever Raj's partner on the show would be. Yet here we are and still no potential partner for Raj, so he gets Anaya in this story._**

 ** _Thanks again to all those who reviewed, favorited and followed. This means a lot to me and I enjoy reading your reviews so much. Thanks again to joyteach for beta reading and in this chpater also making it into Indian English._**

 ** _Surprisingly, I still don't own even a scratch of The Big Bang Theory. That belongs to Lorre and Prady. I do own my 7 OCs and, to some extent, Halley and Michael who are not exactly characters on TBBT._**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Constant work**

 _[Raj.]_

My daughter Dakota and I worked hard on our presentation of the special science bowl for our friends. My friend Penny Hofstadter asked me to organise a special bowl for her daughter Riley's tenth birthday party. Science bowls were a regular thing for our group of four families, which included many scientists and science-loving kids. But Kotie and I both love our friends and love creating and hosting activities for them, and we wanted to make it extra spectacular.

We were doing a magnificent job, both "in the zone", hosting it "Ellen style" with clever jokes and kick-ass dance moves. My fairy princess was rocking it. She's definitely got her father's knack for dazzling the crowd. But then the electricity went off and on again in a second, and the whole thing was ruined. That was weird, we hadn't had blackouts for years.

Kotie was disappointed. We hadn't got to do our surprise pre-finale tap dance number. I told her we would work to make it even greater and use it for her sixth birthday next month. That seemed to do the trick, but to cheer ourselves up even more we decided to catch up with Halley Wolowitz, my twelve-year-old goddaughter and my best friends' Howard and Bernadette's daughter.

"Hello your majesty," I bowed.

"Hello godfather." Halley kissed my hand.

That was our usual greeting, my precious queen Halley deserved such respect and I could never get enough of "The Godfather" jokes.

"What' you doing Halley?" Kotie asked, her brown eyes twinkling like the diamond in her bob pin.

"I am looking at the new issue of 'Preteen Queen'," she said and switched her tablet so it projected on the kitchen island. "It has 10 pages on how to upgrade your school look."

Halley is the fashion queen of our group. Girl's got style to die for. Always trendy, always glamorous. I love shopping and talking fashion with her. Although Kotie's style is more "fairytale", being the fairy princess she is, she is fascinated by Halley's fashion and beauty tips too.

Bernadette would sometimes join our talks and shopping trips and so would Penny and her seven-year-old Sophie. There were a few times when Anaya and even our friend Amy Fowler and her three-year-old daughter Lizzie joined us as well. The only girl in the gang who never joined any of this was Riley. She hated everything fashion or beauty related. Her style was pretty much the same as her dad, Leonard's, when he was younger. That's a shame, as that girl is absolutely gorgeous. With her chocolate brown hair accentuating her big green eyes she is like a little girl version of actress Lucy Hale. Which reminds me how much I miss "Pretty Little Liars"! Vengeance, manipulations, romance - that show was one of my favorite treats for whenever Howard was not around.

"Wow cool I can't wait to be in school!" Kotie said after looking at some of the outfits.

"Preschool isn't too bad, you don't get homework and don't have all those tests and projects… But yeah school is pretty awesome, you get to make all those friends and have your posse to hang out with and do fun stuff with," Halley replied.

"American school social cliques do look fun," I interjected, "unless you're in the rejects' cliques. But things always turn around for them in the movies."

I think Halley smirked for a split second, maybe she helped one of the rejects climb up the social pyramid with new clothes and hairstyle? I didn't have time to ask her about it though, as I just received a phone call.

"Kotie it's Mummy!"

"Yay!"

My wife Anaya was currently in India as a tour guide for an Indian American family. She does that four to six times a year, depending on the length of the tour. She wouldn't be away for more than 12 weeks a year, as she has us and her main job here - running an Indian heritage center.

Although she was born in the United States, Anaya has always cared a lot about staying in touch with her Indian roots. She opened the center to help other Indian Americans do the same. The center has movie nights, dancing nights, music shows and lessons about Indian culture and history, as well as dancing and cooking lessons. A few years after she opened the center, her aunt opened an Indian restaurant just next to it, and a couple of years after that, one of her regular visitors opened an Indian clothing shop next to the restaurant, so it became a little Indian complex. When she told me about that I said it was probably great for revenue. She looked at me as if I said Sandra Bullock was "just all right". For her it is all about the heritage. Every penny she made that she didn't need for her basic needs and for sustaining the center, she used to develop it - get more workers, advertise, buy more equipment, invite more lecturers, arrange more special events.

I actually met Anaya in one of the center's events. Our story is just like a Rom-Com. It all started with me once again all bummed about not having a girlfriend. All of my friends were hanging with their partners and I was watching a rerun of "Sex and The Big City". Then, as if some "force majeure" triggered me, I decided to visit the local temple. I also ran out of ice cream and the temple was close to the supermarket. When I got out of the temple a young boy, who would later become my brother-in-law, handed me a leaflet. It was an advertisement for a lecture about matchmaking in the Indian culture that would take place the following night at "The Pasadena Indian Heritage Center". I never believed in matchmaking. I repeatedly turned down my parents' offers to set me up. But something made me go and hear about it. Howard says it was desperation. I prefer to think it was Kamedeva, the Hindu god of love.

You can probably guess the next part. I came to the lecture a little late, my dog Cinnamon wanted an extra five minutes of belly rubbing and I couldn't resist. I entered the room quietly and sat at the back, close to the door. I was so busy trying to avoid making a noise that I didn't even notice I sat next a woman. Only a couple of minutes later, when I heard the sweetest laugh I had ever heard, in response to the lecturer's joke, did I notice her. This cute, somewhat short woman with big brown eyes and raven hair, dressed in a red sari. We both turned and looked at each other for a few seconds. Since that moment and throughout the whole thing we would take quick glances at each other. I was so nervous, I was afraid my selective mutism, which rendered me unable to speak to women up until my early thirties, was coming back.

Fortunately, when the lecture was over and Anaya asked me what I thought about it, I was able to regain my composure. Or maybe I didn't regain it completely, as I just spoke my mind, honestly. But Anaya found my perspective interesting. She said she always felt conflicted about matchmaking. She was determined to respect her heritage, but at the same time felt one should make efforts to find a partner by oneself. I then told her I loved the way the room was decorated, explaining what made it work for me.

"You do know I run this place, right?" she asked. I felt my cheeks burning.

"Oh I'm so sorry I didn't know that."

"What are you sorry about? You complimented my design."

We both laughed at my awkwardness. I then looked at her, took a deep breath and went for it: "I-I'm Rajesh, by the way. I think I will be coming back here, but I would also like to meet you in a different place, like a coffee house or a restaurant, just the two of us. Would that be okay?"

She replied by taking my phone and entering her number. She then kissed me on my cheek, "Good night Rajesh."

A year later she told me she thought Rati, Kamedeva's female counterpart, had something to do with our meeting. Like me, Anaya is a true romantic.

As I accepted Anaya's video call, I called everyone, and all 15 of us quickly gathered in the Hofstadters' living room. It was a little weird at first because we were such a tight-knit group, but Anaya became part of the gang very quickly and everyone liked her. Even Sheldon Cooper, Amy's husband, alias "Doctor Wackadoodle", admitted that he found her "acceptable" after a few months.

I set my phone on a shelf so the camera would capture us all and set a 16 inch projection of Anaya's video stream in front of us.

"Hi everyone!" Anaya waved. She was wearing a green and pink sari. She didn't wear saris all the time, just for tours and at the center, although most of her regular clothes did have Indian symbols on them.

A choir of "Hello"s, "H"s and How are you?"s sounded.

"I am doing great, but I miss you guys so much, especially my dear family. I'm really sorry I couldn't be there for your birthday party, Riley."

"That's okay Aunt Anaya, you were at every birthday party I had before and I will have many more you can come to," Riley smiled, her tone and expression just like her mum's when comforting someone. She has always been incredibly compassionate and forgiving.

"Mummy Mummy me and Daddy hosted the science bowl! It was off the hook!" Kotie jumped and got closer to the projection.

"Wow sugar! I'm sure you did a fantastic job!"

"Indeed, Kotie was phenomenal!" I said, beaming at my daughter, who turned to me.

Kotie grinned and then turned back, "But then there was a power close."

"Power outage," Sheldon corrected.

"Really? That's unusual," Anaya said.

"Yeah it doesn't happen for years and then it happens today. Awesome, huh?" Penny murmured.

"Honey, are you okay?" Leonard asked, rubbing her back a little.

"Yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine," she quickly replied.

Leonard's hesitant "Okay" was our sign to get back to Anaya. Being with Penny for years, he knew when continuing to question her might end up pushing her away.

"Okay guys I'll let you get back to the party. Raj, Kit-Kotie, I will call you again later. Riley darling, have an awesome birthday! I wish you the best. I believe in you, when you really want something, you work for it."

That was a very Anaya thing to say. "Work for it" was like her motto. Anaya came from a poor family. Her parents immigrated to the US two years before she was born. Getting here was very complicated in itself, but life did not take a dramatic turn for the better when they finally immigrated. They both worked as drivers for her uncle's taxi service. They had four children, worked long hours, and earned peanuts. Anaya started working at 14. First as a waitress, then as a cook. All the members of her family combined their salaries to meet their basic needs. As the children grew up, each finally managed to become independent. Anaya couldn't even dream about going to college, so after graduating from high school she started working almost 24/7. She knew how to keep her expenses low, so she had accumulated money. At 28, she finally had enough money to open her center and be able to take the risk of it crashing down.

When I met Anaya she was 36. Her center had a decent amount of classes, activities and events, but she aspired to do so much more. When she talked about her aspirations for the center, I thought doing "The Secret Millionaire" bit would be a great continuation of our magical story. So I didn't mention coming from a rich family. I told her my father owned a soup restaurant and that our family did fair enough. I told her I got to the university thanks to a scholarship. A couple of weeks later, I wrote her a cheque for more than 10 times the amount her center made in a year, courtesy of my father.

That's when our story stopped being this magnificent Rom-Com. Anaya was furious. She tore up the cheque immediately. She was furious both that I lied about my identity, and that I thought I could just give her money and everything would be perfect. I was devastated. But instead of crying at home for days, I decided to work for it. I went to Anaya's building every day after work and sat there until midnight. For the first three days she wouldn't even look at me. She quickly walked into the building, not giving me a chance to say more than one word. Then, on the fourth day, she stopped at the door and turned around. I then told her how sorry I was, that it was all my fault, and that I had been stupid and had discounted her feelings.

That was true not only for my treatment of Anaya, but also for my treatment of many women I had dated. As soon as I started dating a girl, I would assume she should feel the same way I did. I would be insensitive to her feelings. I would pressure her, or make her uncomfortable in some other way. I would just assume that now that I had the girl, our relationship should go the way I wanted it to, and without my having to do much for it. I would not work for it.

For me, life was obtaining what I wanted, and then enjoying it. For Anaya, life was working to achieve, maintain and develop what she wanted. When I came back home after the cheque incident and thought about her, I realized that if I wanted to be in a relationship with her, I had to work for it. Being in a relationship meant constant work. I was willing to work for Anaya, and decided to show it to her. Luckily for me, she was willing to work for me too. She said she never shied away from hard work, and that she thought she could handle me. That was one of the most wonderful moments of my life.

After saying goodbye to Anaya and hanging up the phone, we all got back to conversation and snack eating. I'd just got back from the snack table, when I heard a little voice coming from the floor.

"Uncle Raj, do you know where my Daddy is?" I looked down at the Hofstadters' three-year-old, Maxi. He looked quite serious, frowning like his dad does when concentrating. This expression seems to be as highly hereditary as Leonard's high intelligence, as both traits have been passed down to all of his children.

"I think he is helping your mommy organize something. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I think so," he nodded. "Uncle Raj, you are married. Can you tell me what should one do to be good at marriage?"

"Uh… Let me see… I'd say respect her wishes. Yeah that's a good one. Respect her wishes."

Maxi nodded, still looking very serious.

"Why do you-"

I couldn't finish my sentence, as I felt Kotie tugging at my sleeve from behind me. As I turned around, Maxi went away.

"Daddy, can I get a Shana Lane dress? Halley says she is the top designer for girls!"

"Sure sweetheart! How about we go shopping on Monday?"

"Yay! Thank you thank you Daddy you're the best!" Kotie hugged me.

I love making my girl happy. I'll just have to remove the tag before Anaya comes back. She doesn't like it when I buy Kotie expensive stuff. But what can I do? Growing up, my parents bought me everything I wanted. So what if people say I pamper her? I want my treasure to know her daddy loves her!

Suddenly all the lights went off, this time not for a second. An emergency light in the middle of the living room went on.

"Daddy what is happening?" Kotie asked. I could hear other children asking the same.

"There seems to be a black out, a temporary shortage of electricity," Leonard explained.

Penny started murmuring again, "Would you look at that! First the bowl is ruined and now we don't get to even start the picture presentation, all the birthday wishes videos and the "guess what Riley made out of that?" quiz! Funny huh? How everything turned around like that..."


	5. The rules that govern our universe

**_A/N: New chapter time :) Sorry for the slight delay, the site wasn't working well but I've found a way to bypass that._**

 ** _In an interesting coincidence, this week sees the POV chapter of Stephen, who is named after the now late Stephen Hawking. May this outstanding man, who has made tremendous contributions to human knowledge and was a testimony to the strength of human spirit, rest in peace._**

 ** _Importan_** ** _t_** ** _notes:_** ** _1._** _ **"If you've met a person with ASD, you've met a person with ASD" - one should not generalize from one person with ASD to another. There is a great variability among people with ASD. Stephen is his own "person" (character) and has his own ASD characteristics along with his own personal characteristics. Stephen is Stephen. Please, do not take his character as some standard of ASD. 2. I am neurotypical, meaning I do not have ASD, so this is a neurotypical writing of a character with ASD.**_

 _ **Thanks again to all who review, favorite and follow. I really enjoy reading what you guys think about the story. And of course, thanks to my beta-reader joyteach.**_

 _ **The Big Bang Theory and its characters still belong to Lorre and Prady. Shocker. I only own my 7 OCs and to an extent (this story's) Halley and Michael.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The rules that govern our universe**

 _[Stephen.]_

The electricity at the Hofstadters' house went off. The emergency light turned on a few seconds later. It consisted of three clusters of high intensity LED light bulbs, creating an intense light of a bright white hue. It flashed for what I believe were a couple of hundreds of milliseconds and then stabilized. There was sufficient light to illuminate the living area.

My breathing rate decreased then and was starting to nearly baseline. When the power outage began it increased rapidly. I also screamed, like my father, and my heart rate elevated as well. These were the consequences of the activation of my sympathetic nervous system, caused by fright. What frightened me was the unpredicted power outage. I had never experienced such an event. The sudden darkness started my quick and automatic reaction. I then thought how crucial electricity was for my life. I concluded that I am not designed to live without electricity.

I turned to my mother. This was a quasi-automatic response. My mother is my best option for soothing and reassurance. My younger sister was already hugging her, giving rise to a conflict for me. I tend to feel uncomfortable when engaged in a hug with more than one person, but my sister Elizabeth is three years and two months old and I am seven years and eight months old, and I have learned that one is expected to compromise for the better of younger children. My mother put her hand on my shoulder, made eye contact with me, and told me that everything would be fine. She had a small smile, which is a positive sign at most cases. My father then added that we had two emergency generators at our house. I calmed down further.

There were 14 other people in the room. I saw the other children talking to their parents and/or hugging them. Aunt Penny found the barriers to fulfilling the plans she had made for Riley's birthday party funny. Uncle Leonard was talking to her in a lower tone. He did not smile. Perhaps he was asking her to explain to him what was humorous about this aberration.

I looked around. The majority of the people in the room were talking, which made it hard for me to make out what they were saying. They talked in different volumes and tones and had various different facial expressions and body postures. It was uncomfortable. I did not know where, on whom, and on what to focus. I did not understand what kind of situation we were in, which made this conundrum worse, as I could not employ any heuristics I had been taught.

I then noticed my pseudo-sister Riley Hofstadter approaching me. I felt more comfortable, even though she had a piece of popcorn on the bottom left corner of her shirt. Riley has been my pseudo-sister for four years now and my friend ever since I was born. She is one of the people I trust and love and she says she loves me. When people say they love me, I know they are not likely to hurt me. Riley has never hurt me, and has successfully comforted and advised me many times. She is also older than me, she is ten years old, which makes her my older pseudo-sister. I have learned that older siblings tend to protect their younger siblings.

"Tivo, since there is a power outage and everybody is upset about it, Michael, Sophie and I have decided to try to figure out how to solve it. The emergency lights upstairs are low so we are gathering in the kitchen. We could really use your help, sweetie, will you come with us?"

I do not understand why she phrased that as a question. The prospect of engaging in a productive, clearly defined activity with my friends Riley and Sophie Hofstadter and Michael Wolowitz, was obviously more appealing than remaining in the chaotic situation I found myself in. Perhaps it was another example of the poor speech habits that dominate the Hofstadter household, according to my father.

As suggested, we congregated in the Hofstadters' kitchen. Riley opened the discussion. Michael had Cheeto crumbs on the sides of his mouth.

"Okay so Michael and I think that to solve the problem we must first discover its cause. So we suggest our first move will be finding or creating something that will help us find the cause."

"Agreed," I said. I saw Michael and Sophie nodding. Realizing the motion had been agreed upon I continued, "Riley, Sophie, would you direct us to the places at your house where the required equipment might be found?"

"Wait. What equipment?" Michael asked.

"Stevie, take a step backwards," Sophie said.

"We should find the cause of the problem."

"No, the step between that and looking for the equipment."

"You want me to state that we should gather any excavation machinery, as well as audio and video recording and transmission equipment?"

"Oh," Michael said.

Stating the obvious. I have learned that people expect me to do that very often. They do it all the time. I find it tedious, why should I state what is obvious? Why do they ask questions or stare at me when I don't? The only person who does not state the obvious to me and does not ask me to do so frequently is my father. Our conversations are much more efficient.

Nevertheless, I adhered to this request. Sophie is Riley's younger sister, seven years and a month old, and is another person I love and trust. Thus, I try to adhere to her advice and requests. Sophie is younger than me, but has better understanding of the rules of conversation.

I have a firm grasp of a decent part of the rules that govern our universe. My knowledge and understanding of Physics, my father's field of research, is at the level of college students, and even greater in certain areas. I also have an equally vast knowledge and understanding of Biology, especially Neurobiology, my mother's field. It is the most fascinating field of science. My parents say I have a unique mind, full of capabilities far beyond those of most people. My father says I have the potential to be the greatest scientist of my generation.

Yet, my mind is also unique in another way. It has difficulties grasping another, important part of the rules that govern our universe: the rules of human social and interaction and communication. Human beings make up only a part of the contents of the universe. However, they are a highly social species, and their social skills have been an important contributor to their survival.

Having my special mind, it is more difficult for me to function among other people, than it is for most of them. Most people's brains work in ways that make social rules clear and instinctive to them, and allow them to improve their social skills substantially as they grow older, without a significant effort. I need to make efforts to learn those rules explicitly. My instincts often fail me in regard to social interaction and communication. To obtain my social goals and desires I have to learn and practice.

Another challenge in that area is that not every person is willing to teach me and understand and forgive my mistakes. In fact, most of them are not willing to do so, or not capable, as my parents and the Hofstadters say. My family and my friends, the Hofstadters, the Wolowitzes and the Koothrappalis, as well as my teacher, my school assistant and my therapists, are among the few people who are willing and capable of helping. My greatest helpers are my parents and Leonard, Penny, Riley and Sophie Hofstadter. When I converse with my friends from said families, they explain their expectations of me and explain things I do not understand. Social interactions are much easier with them. My mother says we are very lucky to have them.

One of the things I have learned from my friends is that people tend to stop conversations when participants do not understand or follow them, in order to "get them back on track", as Riley says. I understood this is what happened at this time, since Riley then continued the conversation. "I think we have some old drills that work on batteries. Our grandpa likes to do repairs in the house when he visits and he sometimes leaves us tools," she said.

"Maybe Mommy can show us where they are. And there is the toy microphone with the unicorns I had, I think it's still working," Sophie added.

"Good, good! Daddy probably has old microphones and maybe also something we could use for a camera," Riley continued.

"We might need to do some repairs to the drill, and maybe use a bunch of drills. I guess electricity cables are buried deep so reaching them with a normal drill will take forever," Michael noted. Using the word "forever", he was engaging in exaggeration in order to convey that it would take a long time.

"Yeah it took time when your dad helped us make your old stool into a cart," Riley recalled.

"Yeah it did! You lifeless nerds took so much of his time that he didn't have time to fix my closet that day! The next morning the mechanical arm didn't work so I couldn't get the dress I wanted!" Halley interrupted. Halley is Michael's older sister. She is twelve and five months, and the oldest child in our group of families. She is never an official part of the discussions between Riley, Michael, Sophie and me, in which Dakota Koothrappali takes part at times. She tends to interject when she is near, usually complaining about Riley, or Riley and Michael, and calling them bad names. In the past I have reprimanded her, stating that she is not acting in an appropriate manner for the situation. I have stopped after being told by Riley a few times that getting mad at her isn't worthwhile. Now I join in the customary ignoring and eye rolling in response to her comments. Apparently, this is a more cost-efficient way of condemning her aberrant behavior.

While participating in the condemnation ritual, I heard my sister tell Max Hofstadter, Riley and Sophie's brother, three years and three months of age, that she wished she had a unicorn. My parents say my sister also has an extraordinary mind, but I'm afraid the cartoon movies she watches every day are damaging it.

"I believe my dad has information on the location of the cables that supply electricity to the affected houses," I stated. My father is prepared for various possible emergency scenarios.

"Okay, I think we have an idea of the things we need, let's make a list of them and then ask the grownups to help us find them. When we have everything in front of us we will think how to put it all together," Riley concluded. The popcorn piece fell onto her left shoe.

"I'll make the list!" Sophie volunteered. She climbed on a chair, took a notepad and a pen from the kitchen island and started writing.

"So you got to the conclusion that you need to call the grownups? Are you sure they didn't read your IQ results backwards? More a retard than a genius if you ask me…" Halley interrupted again.

I felt myself warming up. "Reading the results of an intelligence test backwards would not make any sense! It would not make for an inverse result as you are implying! If anything the results would appear higher!" I yelled at Halley. "Moreover, a cognitively impaired person would not-"

I stopped immediately when a sudden loud, annoying voice sounded. It felt like it was piercing through my head. It sounded like someone was tearing papers inside my ears while heavy rain was falling outside. Then it turned into a high beep. I shut my ears and eyes and stomped my feet. I don't understand how the others could stand that sound. No one else was shutting their ears.

I have learned that when I am tormented by a horrible sound my perception of time is distorted. Given that information, I believe that it was less than ten minutes until Riley tapped my shoulder. I flinched slightly at the startling touch, and then opened my eyes and removed my hands from my ears. The sound ended and was replaced by the sound of people talking. I followed my friends' gazes and saw the adults gathered around Uncle Howard's phone. There was no video or picture projected.

 _"Our reporter Karen Martin is now approaching the man who has been found adjacent to the electricity cables,"_ a male voice stated.

 _"We repeat for the sake of those who are joining us right now: the power outage in Pasadena turned out to be caused by the urination of a man who dug himself into the ground as deep as the electricity cables, at a point where their insulation has been damaged,"_ a female voice added.

Everybody said something indicating confusion, surprise or disbelief, like "What?", "What the he..ck?" or "Seriously?"

The female voice continued, _"The man has been evacuated from the place and is now live with our reporter Karen Martin."_ Why wouldn't he be alive? He was presumably urinating not long ago, and there was no mention of his being hurt or sick. Again, people stating the obvious.

 _"Thank you Jack, Nora,"_ a different female voice started. _"I am here with the man who was found adjacent to the electricity cables, whose urine is the alleged cause of the power outage. Sir, would you tell us your name?"_

 _"Gladly my deaw. My name is Doctow Bawie Kwipke, a well eawning handsome divowced man, looking fow a pwetty lady to have a good time with in Altadena, Califownia."_ The voice of Father's colleague, Doctor Berry Kripke, sounded. _"If you or any othew hot thin' awe intwested, my contact infowmation is in my page on the website of the Physics depawtment of Caltech, whewe I wowk."_

Uncle Leonard suddenly sat down on the couch in his living room and shook his head.

 _"Sir, we'll deal with that objectifying remark as soon as this interview is over, but would you please let us know why and how you got yourself this deep underground?"_ the reporter asked.

 _"Well, I met a smokin' hot miss at a baw last night, and she said she would let me go undew her only if I got weally faw undew, so faw that no one would heaw me scweam. So I made some adjustments to one of my killew wobots, so it would dig fast enough to get me deep in no time. I didn't do much planning so I didn't wealize I was this close to the cables and didn't think my pee would damage them. Hilawious huh? I guess I shouldn't have dwunk all that Beew. Anyway, Sheila, I did mine, now it's youw tuwn to do youw pawt of the deal. But don't wowwy giwls, I am still available, and am now a minor celebwity waiting fow youw calls."_

* * *

 ** _A/N: P.S: Personally, I don't like body fluid humor, but I needed something very weird (and now you probably understand why Kripke came to mind)._**


	6. Not fair

_**A/N: It's Saturday again, time for a new chapter. This time with the site working properly! We're 60% through already, would you look at that.**_

 ** _Thanks again to all who reviewed (I love reviews!), favorited and follow. And of course, thanks to my beta joyteach._**

 ** _The Big Bang Theory belongs to Prady and Lorre (I could use the money but I don't think they care). I only own my 7 OCs and (these versions of) Halley and Michael to some extent._**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Not fair**

 _[Halley.]_

So this man who works with my dad at Caltech dug himself into the ground and peed close to the electricity cable, which caused a power outage in about five streets! And all because some woman told him he should get very low to fall for her or go out with her or something like that… I swear I'm not kidding! Totally pathetic, right? I mean, I know boys do stuff for girls. Being the most popular girl in class, I have boys carrying my stuff, bringing me my lunch, helping me organize and decorate my locker… But this was nuts. I guess some boys get pathetic with the years.

Anyway, we were at a birthday party when it happened. Riley Hofstadter's. Ugh. I hate that stupid girl. The only reason I was there was that our parents are friends. It's kind of a weird group made out of four families. It has been this way ever since I was born. Actually. I am the oldest kid and Uncle Raj wasn't married yet, so it was a two couples-family-single-guy group. But I was two when Riley was born, so ever since I can remember I've been tied to this girl. Our families meet all the time and she comes to our house _a lot_ because my little brother Michael is her best friend. Which makes him stupid too.

Here's one of the many annoying things about Riley: she always plays the heroine. So, of course, after the lights went off she gathered Michael, her sister Sophie and Stephen Cooper, who's also one of the group's kids, and they started talking about building something to find out the cause of the power outage. She also took over the talk and ordered them to write down the things they needed (real brilliant huh?), because not only does she play the heroine, but also the leader of the heroes. And these kids are her usual posse.

So after the parents turned on some picture-less show and we all heard about that Kripke, the pathetic guy, Riley ordered her subordinates to think of something to help the repair people. Of course she wouldn't just let go, she has to save the day.

"The repair people probably have better equipment than we can build in a few hours, but maybe we could be a support team. We can do stuff like provide them with additional illumination and also with fanning, snacks and drinks. They are probably working hard for us, that would help them," she said. Yeah right, help them. She just wants credit. She has to meddle in everything.

The thing about Riley is, she thinks she's all that. She thinks she is better than everybody, mostly because she's a genius. Yeah, like real genius, proved by tests and all. She goes to fourth grade but sits at the back and learns eighth or ninth grade material and some science stuff she picks for herself. Just like that, in front of everybody, to show off.

After school she always builds stupid stuff out of other stuff she finds, many times with Michael as her sidekick. One time they made a tray that went up and down the stairs and then sat on a toy helicopter they could fly to Michael's room so they wouldn't have to go downstairs to get snacks. They could have gone and get their snacks ten times in the time it took them to build it. And my parents were all excited over that stupid thing! Dad couldn't stop smiling and cheering. Two days later the rest of the group came and cheered the genius and her sidekick too.

But Riley also thinks she is better than those who are about as smart as her, or even smarter. Take Stephen for example. He is no less genius than her, if not more. He is probably better than her at Math, he is crazy good at that. Sophie is also a genius like her. Sure, they're seven and she's ten, but that doesn't make much difference. Still, she thinks she is their leader. What gives her the right to think that? N-o-t-h-i-n-g. Her dad, Uncle Leonard, is the head of the Physics department at Caltech, so maybe she thinks that also makes her better than others and gives her leadership rights. Idiot. Her dad's very nice, and my mom says he is humble and is more accomplished and skilled than he might appear. He earned his position. She's just a fourth grader who thinks she should rule everybody.

Of course, her posse let her rule again and went with her idea.

"Wait, what if the repair people think we're intruders? We should think of a way to mark ourselves as assisting forces," Sophie suggested and the others nodded.

"We could use a white flag, although that may be too ambiguous," Stephen said. "There are certain frequent features in superheroes' outfits, such as capes, masks, tight fabric and bold colors. I suggest we use these to signal our intentions."

"We have new picnic blankets, we could use some of them as capes!" Riley seemed excited.

These kids are so weird. They're all into superheroes, including the girls. But Sophie also has cute clothes and I love how she matches her glasses to her outfit. She's much better than her sister, she doesn't think she's special, she's all shy and gentle. Riley, on the other hand, dresses like a boy. Nerdy t-shirts, hoodies and sneakers all the time. She never accessorizes, the only hairdos she does are a ponytail and a braid, and that's only when her mom does her hair. She also never went to dance or gymnastics lessons, doesn't like the best boy band ever "One Intention", and doesn't watch any girls' shows. She's just like a boy. She even has that unisex name. I tell kids in both our schools that her parents called her that because they were confused, they knew she was supposed to be a girl but that thing is so not a girl! LOL

"Picnic-man!" Michael said and posed like a super hero, looking up with determination, one fist up in front of him and the other down behind him. "Reporting to save you from being hungry in the wild, wet grass, and from people thinking you're all creeps just walking around the park!" he said dramatically.

Everybody laughed, including me, but I turned to hide it. I don't want them to think I'm participating in their talk or something but I had to laugh at that. Michael's kinda funny. Sometimes he's alright, especially when we unite to get something from our parents, or when we do impressions, or when we prank our dad. We usually don't mess with our mom, but I did prank her one time. That was scary, and she did confiscate my phone for the day. But she was the only one home except for us, and Michael was all bummed because his rocket model blew up. It's so annoying when he's bummed.

Riley's Justice League kept discussing their plans and writing them down for a few more minutes. They then went to the parents, Riley leading, of course. I followed them to see what the parents would tell them. I was bored anyway, my mom told me to turn off my tablet so it wouldn't run out of battery before the power is back and I can charge it.

The parents were sitting in the living room talking when the Riley group came to interrupt.

"Group walk, paper in hand, and eyes full of purpose, something you want to tell us here guys?" Aunt Penny, Riley's mom, said when she noticed them.

All the parents and also the three other kids, Uncle Raj's daughter Dakota, Stephen's little sister Lizzie, and Riley and Sophie's little brother Maxi, now stopped talking and turned to them. They exchanged looks and nods.

"We have made a plan to help the repair people with additional illumination, fanning and nourishment. We wrote down everything we need to find and build, and we wanted to ask for your help," Riley said.

"That is very thoughtful of you," Uncle Leonard said and the other parents smiled and nodded.

Uncle Sheldon, Stephen's dad, said "Let me examine this," and took the paper from Sophie. He was starting to comment on their plans when Uncle Leonard stopped him.

"H- hang on there Sheldon." He and the other parents then whispered among themselves for a bit.

"Kids," Uncle Leonard came close and bent a little, the other parents looking at them. "Your idea is very thoughtful, and I'm sure you made a great plan. But when things like this happen people tend to gather around the scene to watch the "action", which would make it hard to approach the repair people, and may unintentionally distract them."

"We have thought about that," Stephen barged in. "To solve this, we decided to include features that characterize superhero outfits in our wear. That way everybody will know we are there to help and allow us to approach."

"Yeah, and the repair people must be working hard for us. We really want to help them as much as we can," Riley gave a sad, pleading look. She's such a good faker. As always it worked on everybody, all of the parents besides Uncle Sheldon, who is generally not a very sympathetic person, gave her a sympathetic sad smile.

"I understand that, Cub," her dad moved some of her hair behind her ear, "But it appears from the news that they are making good progress and will be able to finish in a short time if they keep it up. It seems to be one of those cases when they work hard continuously for a short time, rather than taking several breaks and working for longer. If you guys want we could send them something to express our gratitude after they finish their job."

"See! Your plans are just lame and you can't play superheroine all the time! You're just a stupid ten year old, get a clue for once!" That's what I wanted to say. And I wanted to laugh and point at her when I said it. "Oh that's a pity. But I'm sure they will appreciate your gifts," is what I actually said.

As twisted as it is, I know I have to be nice to Riley around the parents. That's how it works here. Everybody loves Riley no matter what she does.

One of my first memories is of when I was almost five and was dancing for the group. It was the first dance I'd learned in my lessons and I had worked hard to perfect it. And I did it. Everybody clapped and cheered me. But Riley ran away just when I finished. We all noticed it only when she came back, with a sheet of 3D stickers. "Here Halley, I saw you almost slipped with your socks. These stickers are bumpy, like on my anti-slipping socks. Stick them to yours and then you won't slip," she squeaked. All eyes turned to her. All of the parents practically melted. They hugged her and kissed her and said she was such a good friend, and so kind, and so brilliant and yadayadayada. Even Uncle Sheldon smiled a little and complimented her. "Hey look what I can do!" I said and did my best padebure. I was expecting cheers, but all I got was my mom's scolding "HALLEY! Say thank you and hug the adorable thing!". Riley was only two and a half and already that diabolical.

I think the real kind of genius she is is evil genius. That could explain how she manages to get so much adoration when seemingly working against the basic rules of life. My mom taught me that in order to get by in this world you have to be tough, stand up for yourself, not take anyone's crap. You have to have people know who you are. When you want something you either play cute or demand it.

I know how to do all this stuff. When I want something I get it, this is how it has always been. People fulfill my demands. And I am THE most popular girl in class. I'm always on top of everything that's trendy, and everybody knows who I am, and that that girl is someone they should admire, and not mess with.

Riley doesn't do all these things. She rarely makes demands. When she wants something she asks for it, sometimes blabbering about her reasons for wanting it, and she gets it. Just like that. She doesn't follow fashion, music and TV trends. She doesn't seem to care about gossip. She doesn't insist on getting hers, mostly she compromises or lets go of what she wants.

Riley doesn't play by the rules, and she gets by anyway. It's like these rules don't apply to her. I make efforts to be the most popular, to be glamorous, to be admired. She dresses like a boy and she's still pretty. She doesn't try to be popular, she studies her advanced material to show her classmates up, and while she's certainly not popular, she does have some friends. People love Riley. Just like that. Even people that don't know her come to love her in no time. And everybody in this group, grownups and kids, is crazy about her. When Riley wants something she gets it because people want to give it to her. When I want something I get it because others are afraid of me or want me to like them. The only one who sometimes brings me stuff because he wants to is Uncle Raj, who is my godfather. And maybe Mom, sometimes. It's like life works in a different way for Riley, and that is just not fair.

At least at school things are a little more fair. I don't have to fake liking her there. I mean, I can't pick on her in front of teachers, but I don't have to be nice to her. School is my playground, especially when there are no teachers around. At school I can serve Riley some justice. I can make her get what she deserves, correct the unfairness just a little bit. I get to call her out for what she really is and add some food or drink to her shirts, you know, a little touch of color to improve them LOL. It is harder now that I'm in middle school and she's still in elementary, but I can sometimes see her through the fence and when we go in or out of school, and I even managed to get a girl from Michael's class to throw a smoothie at her once for me.

That's still not enough. Riley wins life without doing anything she should do to win life. And that is _NOT FAIR_.

Even when she can't do what she wants, like bothering the electricians, she still gets a lot. Everybody is there adoring her. Smiling these sympathetic smiles. Telling her how great she is.

This time, Dad even suggested that we do something to cheer ourselves up. But I did like his suggestion - playing charades, and so did everyone else but Uncle Sheldon and Stephen, but Aunt Amy, their wife and mom, convinced them.

"Let's play kids versus grownups!" I hurried to suggest. When we play this way they use things that everybody knows so age is not a big factor. We were also eight and they were seven, although Lizzie and Maxi, who are three, should probably be counted as one. Stephen is not good at charades either, but Uncle Sheldon is just as bad, so they balance each other out. Michael is great at miming, like me, even better, I admit. Sophie is good and Kotie is fine. But Riley is great at guessing. She's the main reason I want to play kids versus grownups. When it comes to competition (and one that I can win, not like the science quizzes we do that Mom spends energy on for naught), I'm more than willing to forget all to go for the win.

I still hate her guts though.


	7. What I didn't have

_**A/N: New chapter time!**_

 _ **I realized I had'nt thanked those who read but don't review, favorite or follow, so here's my apology and a big thank you! And of course, thank you to thse who do do the other things. I love reviews, so let me know whatever thoughts you're having, up until now I had been able to respond to all (unless someone doesn't want that).**_ _ **Another big thank you to my beta joyceteach.**_

 _ **We're 7 out of 10, and I'm now writing the last one. I have ideas for the longer story I have in mind and have been laying ground for it throught the whole thing, as it could be seen as an exposition story. I don't know if I'll write the longer one, if you have thoughts about that (e.g., this one seems enough/ don't see to much potential for a longer thorugh-the-years one/ think there is interesting stuff and would like to see where it goes) let me know.**_

 _ **The Big Bang Theory belongs to Lorre and Prady. I'd sure like the money though. I only own my 7 OCs and this story's Halley and Michael, to some extent. They don't make me money, but I love them anyway!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 7: What I didn't have**

 _[Howard.]_

"Tall!" my friend Raj shouted.

I nodded and stretched up, crossing my arms, my lips pursed and my head elevated. I shook my head in a disapproving manner.

"No!" my wife Bernadette tried.

"Refusal!" came from my friend Penny.

"Grumpy! Grumpy!" Raj had a big grin.

"HOW COULD HE BE GRUMPY IF HE'S TALL?!" Bernadette yelled at him. My friends say they haven't noticed, but I swear sometimes she sounds so much like my deceased mother.

"Uh…Squidward!" Raj tried.

I kept repeating these motions.

"H- h- Madame Curie! Isaac Newton! H- h- Dark matter! H- h- Magnesium!" Sheldon fired. Man, he was so bad at this.

"SHUT UP SHELDON!" Bernie scolded. She can be really mean and scary, especially during competitions.

"How is that Magnesium?" Penny looked at him, puzzled.

I pretended to knock on a door, three consecutive knocks, and then mouthed "Someone".

"Sheldon!" Sheldon's wife, another friend, Amy, shouted before I could continue.

I nodded and continued quickly. We were almost out of time and our kids had already got their score for this round. My boy Michael is good at miming, and Penny's kid Riley is great at guessing, and together they make one hell of a team.

I tugged at my shirt.

"Clothes! Sheldon Clothes!" Raj shouted.

"Too many clothes!", "Kids' clothes!" Bernie and Penny tried at the same time. Michael and my daughter Halley laughed.

I then tried pretending to fold clothes, but I'm not very good at that. They went quiet. Maybe I should start helping more with the laundry. Nahh.

"Sheldon trying to swim!" Amy shouted.

I spun my hands in circles.

"Laundry!" Penny shouted.

I nodded.

"Sheldon's laundry!" Bernie tried.

"Did you do something to my laundry?!" Sheldon asked in a high pitched voice, appalled. He's one quirky dude. Or more like crazy. Or both, with added wacko, eccentric, pedantic…There's not a good enough word to describe Sheldon.

"Ooh Laundry Night!" Penny jumped, "Saturday!"

"Yes!" I shouted. But the timer pinged just as she said it.

"COME ON! Concentrate people! CONCENTRATE!" Bernadette yelled.

The kids cheered.

"Told you we'd crush you!" Halley did a little dance. She may be only 12 but she's just as competitive as her mother, which means at our house playing games in which they can't be teamed up is a nightmare.

What made this charade game more tolerable is that we were playing with our friends, adults versus kids. We have a group of friends that we see a lot. We've been friends for more than 20 years now. It started with a little group of sad nerds: Leonard, Raj and I, and Sheldon, sorta. Now there's Bernie and me and our kids, Leonard and his wife Penny and their three kids, Sheldon and Amy and their two and Raj and his wife Anaya and their daughter. We're still nerds though, what-do-you-gotta-do.

This was a special gathering. It was Leonard and Penny's oldest, Riley's, tenth birthday. And what a birthday! For the first time in many years, Sheldon would probably know exactly how many, there was a power outage.. And the reason? One of our colleagues at Caltech, Barry Kripke, didn't get the hint some girl sent him to F off and dug himself deep underground, and when he peed he damaged the electricity cables. Ah..the desperate single days. They make them seem so neat in movies but I sure don't miss them. I'd much rather be the married father laughing at the guy.

And there was another thing that made it even more funny: Kripke is a physicist. Leonard is the head of the physics department. This meant phone call after phone call for Leonard, who went to take them somewhere in his dimly lit upper floor. People ask me what's the most fun about my friend being a department head in my workplace. Having him drop some good words to my department head? To the president of the university? Have a friend voting on the cafeteria menu? Nope. Watching him dealing with problems in his department is definitely number one. That department has some real crazy people with some real crazy relationships. Kripke, Sheldon, Leslie Winkle and Ramona Nowitzki – and that's just to name a few. Last week I saw Leonard marching between Sheldon's and Leslie's rooms over and over to resolve their latest fight. That was hilarious. But he's better at dealing with his people than the former head. Gotta give him some credit.

"'We'll crush you' - that's what you want to hear from the person who will decide on putting you in a home or unplugging you one day," I joked.

Most of the adults laughed. Bernie smiled and shook her head, but I don't always know with her. Many years ago I found out that she could fake laughter very well. This makes for some perpetual insecurity for me, but hey, what is life without something to always keep you just a liiittle bit neurotic?

You see, my sense of humor was always like my super-power. It got me going when my father left my mother and me when I was 11, it got me friends (nerdy ones, but still friends), it got me off rebuttals at work over the years. So when I met Bernadette and couldn't get her to laugh at any of my jokes, I thought our potential relationship was doomed. She has come to understand my jokes over the years, and I know (or want to believe) she does enjoy many of them now. But when we started dating I didn't have that weapon. I felt helpless, naked, and not in the sense I wanted to be. She didn't even like juggling! But here we are, married with two children. How the hell did a putz like me get this strong, smart and beautiful woman without my super-power? What drew her to me? I guess I'll never know. I call it the greatest magic the Wolowizard ever pulled off. Problem is, the Wolowizard has no idea how he did that.

It was Halley's turn now. She made an annoyed face and pretended to wave things off with her hands. We all laughed. When Halley lets herself go she can be really funny.

It wasn't long before the kids guessed "Pop-ups". These are certainly annoying, especially when you have your phone on projection. It was Michael and Sophie who finally called it, but I think Riley had it a second earlier, but let the others have it when she saw they were getting there. She is really good at this game, but also quite considerate. Leonard and Penny worry she might be too considerate. Frankly, if that's true they can only blame themselves. They have been taking Sheldon's crap for years. Sure, it has become less so since Riley was born, but they still do way too much for him.

It was now Sheldon's turn. Oy vey. He just stood there and pretended to turn something with his fingers. Of course none of us could figure what he was doing.

"Sheldon what on earth was that!" Bernadette yelled at him as soon as our time was up, while Halley did a happy dance.

"Richard Feynman, obviously!" Sheldon retorted as he crossed his arms, furrowing.

"How is _that_ Feynman?!" Raj protested, imitating Sheldon's finger movement.

"I was clearly cracking a safe. Richard Feynman used to crack safes to entertain himself when he was working in the New Mexico desert on the Manhattan project." He then repeated the motion, which was getting really annoying.

We looked at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"Does it really say Richard Feynman on the card?" Penny took the face-down card from the table. "Sheldon it says van!"

The confusion was now gone and was replaced with frustration.

"Yes it does. Leonard, Raj, Howard and I rode in Feynman's van for Leonard's bachelor party," Sheldon replied matter-of-factly.

He was met with sighs and head shakes, and a creepy mean glance from Bernadette. If looks could kill, this would be the end of Sheldon. Then again, I wouldn't be there to see it.

"Gee, you teach people a fun fact about Richard Feynman and all you get is an interrogation," Sheldon said and went back to his place, "his spot" in the Hofstadters' house. Told you they take too much of his crap.

With this the game ended, and we all started scattering around. I was sitting on the left-hand couch when Halley came and sat next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. Her soft hair tickled me a little.

"Hey there," I greeted.

Halley looked up at me and smiled her sweet smile. "Daddy," she started what would definitely be a request, "there's a One Intention fan convention in LA next week, I gotta be there, you're driving me, right?" One Intention is Halley's favorite boy band.

"Sure, Superstar," I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. I've learned to stop myself from ruffling her hair, she hates that.

"Yay!" she cheered and returned my kiss, and then went to tell Bernie and Dakota, Raj's six-year-old. They both started singing and dancing one of the band's songs.

I just love making my daughter happy. I know this is super corny (or Raj-corny, which is a special brand of corny with a big dose of cringe) but when she sings and dances it kinda makes me feel like singing and dancing myself. How can a father give up on that?

I was watching Halley and Kotie, when I felt a gentle tap on my knee. "Hey, Uncle Howard," came three-year-old Maxi Hofstadter's little voice.

"Hey Maxter, need something?" I asked.

"Actually, I do," he said, nodding his head, a serious expression on his face. "Uncle Howard, you are married."

"At least until Aunt Bernie finds out I have a fake thermometer I use to get out of chores," I joked.

Maxi furrowed. Wrong crowd.

"Yes, I am."

Maxi nodded, "Can you tell me what one should do to be good at marriage?"

"Umm…Well...Oh, yeah. Learn how to do things for her, so that you can do that when she's mad at you. You offer, she doesn't think you can do it because you never do and don't seem to care, you pull it off and she's impressed," I started, and then switched to my Bernie impression voice, "'Oh Howie you do listen!'" (good thing she was outside) "And all is forgiven and forgotten. Yeah, learn how to do things for her."

"Learn how to do things for her," Maxi repeated, nodding.

He turned and ran upstairs before I could ask him why he'd asked that. Like all of Leonard's kids, Max is a genius and is way advanced for his age, but that was odd, even for him.

I remember when Halley and then Michael used to ask me all these funny, endless questions. Seriously, they should hire kindergarteners to interrogate people for the police, they would never give up (and they could always threaten with a doomsday tantrum or a crayon make-over). But it was fun, getting to teach my kids about the world, seeing how fascinated they are by the answers, watching them think things over. How can a father give up on that?

I thought about following the Maxter, see what he was up to, but as I turned to get up from the sofa I noticed Michael and Riley running to me.

"Dad! Dad!" Michael shouted and stopped an inch short from me, Riley closely behind. "I told Riley about the drone in the dove pan and she had an awesome idea!" he started, beaming, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, his pace picking up. "She says we should look at its engine to see if we can get it to fly between our houses, using GPS signals to guide it. That would be so cool! We could use it to send messages to each other with a flight-sign language we would make up! And pass over some stuff!"

"Yeah! I don't know how much weight the drone could bear but I thought about three ways we could attach little objects to it with low damage risks!" Riley added, equally enthusiastic, "Look, I've sketched them on my pad!" She quickly projected the sketches from her pad.

Michael pointed to each and every neat detail of their plans, alternating between them at a pace that made me dizzy. "Would you help us with that? Please Dad, please!" Michael begged, pulling at my hand to get me to follow them to the backyard.

"Yes please Uncle Howard please please please!" Riley joined.

"I would I would, no need for a please choir!" I said, lifting my hands in surrender, chuckling. "Hey, maybe when you get a girlfriend you could use the drone to send her roses when you mess up." I ruffled Michael's hair, he does let me do it.

These two made a pretty awesome duo. They would always make cool stuff and conduct cool experiments together. They remind me of the way our four-nerd group used to be in our twenties. Some of the things they have done are actually more elaborate and elegant than we used to do. Riley really knows her stuff and has great ideas. She's a cool little dude. Michael has his own share of great ideas, he sure is his father's son.

Helping Michael and Riley is as fun as it can get. Not only for the awesome end products, but also for the wonderful time we have making them, and for the joy it brings them. How can a father give up on that?

How can a father give up on that? That is a question you'd have to ask my dad. My dad gave up on that. Watching his child excited about something, grinning, dancing and singing. Teaching him about the world as he grows. Making stuff together with him, having the time of their lives. My dad gave up on all of that. My dad gave up on me. That weasel gave up on me, just like that.

I've tried to understand it, I really have. I've spent years trying to figure out possible answers. I couldn't even think of one. And now that I'm a father, it feels like I have minus one hundred.

I have a million and one answers to the reverse question. How can father not give up on his child? That might be the easiest question I've ever heard. My dad gave up on me, but I will NEVER, NEVER EVER, give up on my children.

Growing up, I didn't have a father to drive me for hours just to make me happy. I didn't have a father to call me "champ". I didn't have a father to ruffle my hair. I didn't have a father to pat me on the back. I didn't have a father to teach me how to pick up girls. I didn't have a father to teach me how to get along with the guys.

My kids? They will have all of that. Their dad is never going to give up on them. They will never feel that void. They will never feel that incurable wound. They will have what I didn't have.

It's funny though, how for some, the presence of a parent could make for wounds probably deeper than they would have been were that parent absent. That was the case for Leonard and his mother, controversial neurologist and psychiatrist Doctor Beverly Hofstadter, to whom I just opened the door.

* * *

 _ **A/N: P.S: When I wrote the last line and whenever I read it I hear in my head a slow version of the first five seconds of Beethoven's fifth symphony.**_


	8. Ghosts

_**A/N: Saturday is here, time for a new chapter!**_

 _ **I think this is a good time to remind everybody that it's a caharcter POV story, which means what is written is the characters perceptions and views. There is no "voice of truth", no one is saying what's "right" or "wrong" here, I feel the need to state that now as there is a tendency to view the more "straight-man" characters (like Leonard and Penny) as representing what is right. This is not to say that whatever the characters do or think is wrong. Take it for what it is, what the characters think and do.**_

 _ **I've finished writing the last chapter this week. It feels weird because I do have so much more to tell about these characters, past, 2029 present, close and (very) distant future. There are uanwsered questions here, there are things I have layed ground for, there is room for growth and things I just have in my mind. I think I'll write a few chapters for the longer story and then decide about posting it (if I do it may be around July).**_

 _ **Thanks again to all who read, follow, favorited and review. I love reviews, if you have any thought about what you read let me know :)**_

 ** _As per usual, The Big Bang Theory is ALL MINE. Nahh you know. Lorre and Prady. I own my 7 OCs and to some extent (this story's) Michael and Halley._**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Ghosts**

 _[Leonard.]_

"No, the Caltech Physics Department is not trying to make any statement about the electricity company's negligence!" I answered the reporter. "No I am NOT claiming there is any negligence!" I should have known he'd go there.

"What? No, this is not a collaborative con to get the electricity company more money!" this was getting ridiculous. "Sir, I repeat, the Caltech Physics Department laments the actions and remarks made by its employee Doctor Barry Kripke. Doctor Kripke acted as a private person, guided by his private considerations, and his actions and remarks do not represent the department in any manner. Regardless, we wish to apologize to anyone who had been hurt, in any manner, due to the events," I stated.

"What? Umm I guess he's decent looking..?" That was a weird question."Wh- No I do not know what's up with his relationship with Sheila!" What the..? "How could people see them together this morning if he's been-" Why am I getting into this? "Good afternoon, Sir," I finished and quickly hung up my phone.

This had been the 14th call I had gotten in the last half an hour. All news reporters. Each asking crazier questions than the other (okay maybe the one who asked me if I were a Chinese spy was nuttier than this one). This was exhausting, but it was part of my job.

You see, I'm the head of the Physics Department at Caltech, "The California Institute of Technology". It's a great job and I love it. I am in charge of many fascinating projects, some of them with the potential to make significant changes to the ways researchers think of their fields and some with the potential to impact our daily lives, even "the future of humanity", If I am to be a little hyperbolic. I also get to do a bit of research and teaching, as agreed upon my admission. But I'm also in charge of the people conducting the projects, and these people can cause quite a lot of trouble. From adamant refusals to take any vacation days, to vehement fights over slide colors, to teasing each other with imperceptible holograms, to erecting tents in the special simulators rooms, to name-calling, and now to causing a power outage in five streets - the Caltech physicists are a turbulent bunch. And whose job is it to settle all of this? to find agreeable solutions? To break their resistances? to deal with the press whenever some crazy story crosses the boundaries of the university? That's right.

Dealing with the Department employees can be a very tough job. Sometimes I get such a headache, that all I want is to stay in my wife Penny's office (she's in the university's promotion team) and sneak out after everybody's gone. At times like these I keep telling myself that these are a bunch of extremely brilliant people who need help, each in their own way. That usually gets me going. Well, that and just being with Penny for some time, especially when it includes a bit of making out, I can't deny that.

This, however, was one of the tougher times. I can deal with the Department people's shenanigans when they make my work day a nightmare. But it's a different story when it interferes with my family, my piece of heaven, the most important people in all my life.

See, we were celebrating our firstborn, Riley's, birthday with our close friends, three other families who are like family to us. We were having a science bowl, one of the activities our Riley loves, when suddenly the electricity went off for a second. The game restarted and everyone was bummed. Penny won't talk about it yet, it takes time for her to open up when she's upset, but I know it troubled her very much. She takes the kids' events very seriously, and this being Riley's tenth birthday, she had made plans for the party weeks ahead.

But that was just a short outage. The real problem came a bit later, when the power went off again and did not come back on. These outages were very strange, as we hadn't had an outage for years. Well, their cause was even more strange: Doctor Barry Kripke, one of my employees. And I do mean he is strange by himself, not just his actions. It turns out he didn't get the hint some woman he was trying to hit on gave him. He took literally her suggestion to dig himself so deep that no one could hear him, thinking that would make her have sex with him. His speech impediment is far from being the most peculiar thing about him. Anyway, it turns out Kripke was just adjacent to the electricity cables, at a spot where they were not adequately protected. When he peed he had damaged them and caused a power outage in five streets, including ours. Of course, Kripke also had to make various sexist comments when he was interviewed after getting out of his "cave".

So there I was at my baby's birthday, talking on my phone on our barely-lit upper floor, answering crazy questions from reporters who were trying to get non-existent juicy details, trying to save the Department's face. That is NOT what I wanted to do at my Cub's birthday. Riley doesn't deserve to have her Daddy absent, to have him busy with his job, at her tenth birthday.

Her tenth birthday. Over the last few weeks I've heard Penny repeat that phrase over and over, shaking her head incredulously. She would later sigh and sometimes hug or lean on me and reminisce on times when Riley was younger, and was with us whenever she wasn't at daycare, or when she was still breastfed or in Penny's womb. I'd always known Penny would be a wonderful mother, but given her cool and relaxed demeanor, and the many years she had been afraid of commitment, I hadn't imagined her being so powerfully attached to our children. Not that I have any problem with that. On the contrary, it just makes me love and adore her even more. Much, much more. I didn't even think that was possible.

To be honest, I'm having a tough time wrapping my head around this myself. My little baby, my Cub (as we call her), is ten. I remember when she just came in to this world, a perfect tiny baby, with a perfect tiny face, a perfect tiny body, perfect tiny fingers and toes and a perfect tiny voice. I got to take her seconds after she got out and bring her over to Penny, something I had repeated with our two younger ones, Sophie and Max, and was the same level of amazing every time. But there was something unique with Riley, and not only it being our first childbirth. When I took Riley she was squirming in my hands a little. Nothing special about that, but, moving her tiny hands, her fists bumped into my fingers. She immediately slowed down her movements and her cries calmed significantly. Maybe the heat of my body calmed her. Maybe the sudden sensory input, different from anything she had felt before, piqued her curiosity and she was trying to make sense of it. Ugh, why do I always have to find an explanation for everything? The point is, she calmed down and opened her perfect tiny-big beautiful eyes widely, which were turned roughly in my direction. The whole thing lasted for probably less than five seconds, but it was one of the most powerful and astounding moments of my life.

It has been ten years, but Riley is no less perfect. She is generous, compassionate, kind, loving, fun, funny, passionate, curious and brilliant. She's also incredibly beautiful, but she hates being told that because people tend to make wrong assumptions about her based on that. She's an amazing daughter and an amazing big sister, even to her non-biological siblings, the Cooper-Fowler kids who live next door and are part of our group of friends. She's an awesome friend and an awesome potential scientist. I mean, I won't dare say a word if she chooses to do something else, but she loves science and is very passionate about it. Our Cub is a special little girl. And yeah, she's still little, physically little. Being 5'5, I can only blame myself for that.

I waited for five more minutes. Seeing there hadn't been any phone calls, I decided to get back to the party. Whoever hadn't called by now would have to rely on others' reports. Kripke had given enough ridiculous interviews to draw traffic to dozens of media outlets. And if they insisted I would just let my friend Sheldon, a strong contender for the title "wackiest of the Physics Department", answer. Trust me, they would give up in no time.

Turning to the hallway, I saw three-year-old Maxi running down the stairs. He had a pile of blank papers and his crayons with him. That would be very normal, but..were those dolls' cones and hair bands he had there? And what was with the toy horses?

I was about to check what he was up to, but as I was climbing down the stairs, my eyes landed on the front door, and each and every thought I had flew out of the window. There was only one thing consuming my mind at the time: the person my friend Howard had just let in - the person who makes me feel all this agony, and angst, and rage, and defeat, all together, who makes my mind a chaos - my mother. Every time I see her it's kind of like being thrown into a battle zone where I have to fight a monster made out of a combination of Darth Vader, Brainiac, the Borg and villainized versions of Sigmund Freud. And I am just my regular self, only 3 feet tall. And every comment she throws at me makes me an inch shorter.

You probably think I'm just exaggerating, maybe for humor. "Mother humor" was one of the most prominent types of humor Howard used when his mother was alive. But that kind of humor is based on stereotypes and on commonalities among people's mothers. My mother has nothing in common with other mothers. As I grew older, I learned that my mother might fit the strictly biological definition of the term, but she never fitted what one would think of as a mother.

My mother never cared for me when I was sick. She never comforted me. She never asked how I was feeling. My mother never defended me. She never cared if I got hurt. She never helped me face my fears and solve my problems. All I got was "Buck up, Sissy Pants" or "Leonard, behave", and that was on a good day when she would "generously" pay a tiny bit of attention to my "displays of immense greed, driven by desire to destroy the object", that would be her, stemming from my "intense fear of annihilation originating from my inborn tremendously over-active aggression drive, intensified by my failure to surpass each and every developmental stage successfully."

My mother never listened to me. I mean, for real, not just to search for something that would validate her conceptualization of me. She never took interest in anything I had said or done, again, unless she could use that to support her perceptions. Be it a butterfly or a model of the anterior cingulate cortex, she wouldn't even look at anything I had to show her. Oh, sometimes she would glance at these things, and her retina and brain would register them, but she wouldn't really see them. Do I even have to say throughout my 49 years of life my mother only complimented me less than a handful of times, and that's counting simply not saying something negative and complimenting me on my wife?

My mother had no love for me. And yet I'd still jump through hoops to satisfy her, hoping to get the smallest hint of affection, once and again. Until I had my first child.

I looked around and felt relieved, noting that the children were not around. I assumed they were out in the backyard. I hurried to the front door and blocked my mother's way into the house.

"Thank you, Howard," I said, looking sternly at her.

She got the message and took a few steps back. I followed her outside and closed the door behind me.

"Hello Leonard. I see you are keeping your oppositional stance toward me," she said in her cold, denigrating tone.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I wasn't going to play games.

"Blatant, but perhaps preferable to your usual tedious prattling."

"What are you doing here?" I wasn't going to let her suck me in.

"I hear my grandchild is having a birthday party. I am here to attend said party," she stated simply. Yeah right. She probably wanted to make observations on my children when we were not prepared for her visit, for whatever new demeaning book she is writing about me, or worse, me and my children. She had published several books on me over the years, with titles like "The Disappointing Child" and "Needy Baby, Greedy Baby". I swore I would NOT let her do that to my kids.

"Mother, you know very well that you are not allowed to come to my house or to see any of my children without prior notice and permission," I gritted.

"Leonard, I have no reason to abide by your preposterous family visits terms, which are no more than an epitome of primal attempts to recover a sense of agency and efficacy that had never been established in the first place," she stated in that mocking, condescending tone.

I took a breath. "You agreed to this."

"I was amused by that development, clearly stemming from romanticized views of family and fatherhood," she said dismissively, with a smirk.

That was it. I couldn't. I couldn't keep with that anymore. "In every nursery there are ghosts. They are visitors from the unremembered past of the parents; the uninvited guests at the christening," I cited.

My mother was silent for a few seconds, looking at me blankly. "Hmm," she finally said.

She knew it. Yes! She knew it. Of course she knew it. I knew she would. She would never let me read it or even be aware of it when I was young. She would probably dismiss it like she would every text that goes against her own perceptions, as sound and supported as it may be. But she knew it. I smiled a small smile, not letting it turn too big to avoid having her think I'd lost my cool, "'Ghosts in the Nursery', seminal paper by Fraiberg, Adelson and Shapiro."

"The masses are so easily drawn to sentimental, poetic writing," she huffed.

"You mean masses of mental health clinicians acknowledging the important contribution of this sound, compelling writing?"

"Oh please, Leonard, what's it going to be next? Spitz? Bowlby?" she snorted important names as if they were preschool children.

"I mean all too many whose work goes against everything you stand for. And all too many who call your work dangerous, appalling, and a horrifying testimony to the pernicious power of distortion of a troubled, highly-determined bright mind. Yeah, I know that, I know what they're saying about you now. They give your books to students to warn them of the horrendous effects a dogmatic abuse of psychological material can have. The best thing they're saying about your work is that it's highly controversial. The only supporters of your work are basically dogmatic cults. They didn't succeed in banning your publications, but they say your therapy license is revoked."

My mother kept staring at me blankly.

"They are right about the power of your mind. You managed to keep me unaware of all of this for decades. But now I am. I have been for several years, actually."

She then started laughing, something she rarely did. "Leonard, I expected that, as a scientist, you would know that there would always be the stray paper the conclusions of which you could distort to fit your contention. Apparently, even that was too much to expect."

I wanted to shout at her that that was what she did, but I realized I was delving into different territory. I had to steer back the conversation quickly, before I got completely caught up in her drifts. I took a deep breath and gathered all my strength to say it slow and clear. "You are my ghost, mother. An abuser. That evil power that could make for a repetition of trauma and abuse for generations, that could cause huge mental damage for generations. You are the ghost that threatens my babies' nurseries, that threatens my whole family, this and later generations. The family that I would do anything, ANYTHING in my power to protect."

There was a moment of silence, I'm not sure how long. It felt like that part of the movie when the ultimate fight is over, and the dust dissipates in silence. I felt a hot, angry tear traveling down my cheek. It was somewhat similar to that moment almost ten years ago, when I set the terms for my mother to visit my family. But it was stronger now, it being a face-to-face confrontation and not a video call.

"You are allowed to enter and talk to the kids, as long as there is an adult watching you," I finished and turned to enter my house.

I then noticed that the door was slightly open, and right there behind it, holding to the handle, frozen, looking up at me with her big, innocent, fragile eyes, was my precious seven-year-old baby girl, my Princess, Sophie. Oh sh**.

I picked Sophie up in a tight embrace. Luckily, she could not see the tears that now ran down my cheeks, now not of anger. After a minute I took her upstairs and sat at the top of the stairs, the better-lit area of the upper floor, with her in my lap. I wrapped my hands around her tightly, protectively. I call this a Sophie hug - one that envelops her, warm and tight, one with which I try to shield her as much as I can from whatever is out there.

The thing is, it is not for naught that we call her Princess. Sophie is very delicate, gentle and ingenuous. She is timid, and gets nervous easily. She reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger, and when she is anxious I tend to say it's my fault, she got this from me. Penny always counters, saying I know very well that she is also insecure, and that our kids having insecurities was a no-brainer. I guess that's true, Penny may play it cool but over the years I have learned that underneath that she definitely has insecurities, not at my level, but far from minor. Still, Sophie's anxieties and insecurities are right there on the surface, and that is, undoubtedly, a me thing.

I certainly wouldn't want any of my children, or any children for that matter, to walk in on that extremely tense conversation I'd had with my mother. But Sophie was the last person I'd have wanted there. I wished so hard that it would turn out to be a nightmare, but I knew it wasn't. I was trying to protect Sophie from my mother, and instead I'd brought an emotional turbulence upon her. What a stupid, useless jerk.

"I am so, so sorry, Princess. I love you so much baby. I am so, so sorry," I said.

"Daddy, is Grandmother dangerous?" she suddenly asked, quietly.

It was my turn to freeze now. How would I answer that? Yes, the answer was definitely yes. But I could not tell Sophie that.

She looked up at me. "I heard you say she is threatening our family," she then looked ahead, "Does she want to hurt us?"

I took a deep breath. "No, Princess. She doesn't want to hurt you. I mean, I think she doesn't. You know, we have talked about how we cannot know what other people are thinking as nobody is a mind reader and…" Ugh, I got myself into a corner. "Sophie," I started over, "I will not let Grandmother hurt you."

She looked straight into my eyes, "I know that, Daddy," she smiled.

I smiled back, kissed her forehead and squeezed her gently, "I love you, Princess."

At least one of us seemed to not be afraid of my mother any more. By that I mean Sophie, if that wasn't clear, because I am still terrified. Not of my mother herself. I have managed to control her interactions with my family before and if she breaches my terms again I will deal with that. But of my mother inside myself, "my internalized object", psychotherapists would say.

You see, that paper, "Ghosts", it is not about the actual grandparents. It is all about how the parents transfer their horrible past experiences to their children. I mean, it does say that there are the parents who lived tormented childhoods and do not inflict that on their children. It says that these are the parents who say that they would never let their child go through what they went through. I have said that, to myself or out loud, countless times. Still, being the child of an emotionally-abusing mother and a mostly absent father, I cannot get rid of that fear, that horror, that I might somehow terribly hurt my children.

But I have Penny. _We_ have Penny. If it weren't for her, that horror might have had me constantly paralyzed. Penny is a mother in each and every meaning one could think of. An outstanding one. She is full of love, so much so that it pours out of her, even when she merely talks about the kids or thinks about them. Penny is tremendously caring. I remember this one time Maxi got a scratch on his leg, she promised him she would kiss it 53 times (he wanted a prime number) and held to her promise. She said her lips were numb for hours after that, but it wasn't a complaint, we both laughed at that. Penny listens to our children and looks at what they do, even if she doesn't understand it (that happens quite frequently, Penny is definitely not stupid but the kids are geniuses and much into science). Penny praises the kids all the time, and it's never fake, she really is amazed by them. And she encourages, supports and helps them as much as she can.

Whenever I talk about my fear of hurting the kids Penny says that is the craziest thing she ever heard. She says it is straight-out bat crap crazy, and that (obsessive, pedantic, uptight, noise-hating) Sheldon becoming a DJ or (scrawny, short) Howard becoming a professional football player would appear totally normal next to that. Yet, when I ask her, she does promise me that she would never let me hurt our kids. She does, each and every time I ask her. And with that I know that everything will be okay.

With Penny, and our children, I know I can beat whatever ghost that comes around. With my family, as that paper says, "The bonds of love protect the child and his parents against the intruders, the malevolent ghosts." They will never get us.

* * *

 _ **A/N: "Ghosts in the nursery" is a real paper.**_ **Fraiberg, S., Adelson, E., & Shapiro, V. (1975). Ghosts in the nursery. _Journal of the American Academy of Child Psychiatry, 14_ (3), 387-421.**

 _ **And BTW, Beverly's publication being successfull and without major controversy in the 21st century, as they are in the show , is just unrealistic.**_


	9. Giving my all

**_A/N: Saturday - chapter day :)_**

 ** _This one is the peunltimate chapter for this story, and also the longest one. This surpried me when I finished, but it fits the piling up theme of the chpater._**

 ** _Thanks to all who read, review, favorite and follow. I love reviews (and reply to all unless they don't want a reply or post as guests as, sadly, it is not possible to reply to guests), so if anything comes to mind when you read I would be very happy to read it. Thanks to my great beta joyteach, of course._**

 ** _Reminder: This is a characters' POV story so there's no right/wrong, the things written respresent the characters perceptions and views._**

 ** _And I own THE WORLD.  
_** ** _Okay fine, I own my 7 OCs and to some extent (this story's versions) of Michael and Halley. And my laptop. And some extra kgs. The rest of the characters here belong to Lorre and Prady._**

* * *

 **** **Chapter 9: Giving my all**

 _[Penny.]_

"Hello, Penny," my mother-in-law greeted in her regular formal tone.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I wanted to ask, so bad. Coming in from my backyard to put the candles on my daughter's birthday cake, I did not expect to see Doctor Beverly Hofstadter. I did not want to see her either.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those bitchy wives who just hate their mothers-in-law. In fact, I do try to get along with her as much as I can. But Beverly is a special case. Quite the nut case, but the cold, analytical, critical, condescending, life-sucking, unsatisfiable type. Beverly is so far from a normal mom, and kind of a walking nightmare for my husband. Whenever she's around, Leonard's in turmoil. He has gotten much better at standing up to her since our first daughter, today's birthday girl Riley, was born. Still, every interaction with her left him mentally exhausted, so much so that most times he felt physically exhausted too. And now that we have kids, he's also constantly worried about her interactions with them. That is why he set terms for her to interact with our family: She's not allowed to interact with them without us or another adult we approve of, she's not allowed to say anything insulting to them (if she thinks she has helpful criticism either Leonard or I have to approve it), she's not allowed to call them anything but their names or grandchildren, she has to either ask at least one question about what they're saying or say at least one positive or nice thing to them, and if she's coming to visit she has to announce it at least two days earlier and be granted permission.

Yet here she was, no advance notice, no permission. Flesh and blood, Beverly Hofstadter. Great, just great, I thought. If the party already got ruined, why not make it a total mess? Just wonderful.

First it was a few seconds' power outage. Years of no power outages and here's one on my Cub's tenth birthday. It ruined the physics bowl we were having, resetting the whole thing. Riley loves those science bowls we sometimes have with our friends, the three families who were our party guests. Many of the people in this group are genius current or future scientists, including my husband and kids, so we do these science bowls every once in a while. This was a special one for Riley's birthday. I'd asked our friend Raj and his six-year-old Kotie to host it and make it as exciting as they could. It really was great, I could see how much everyone enjoyed it. Riley was beaming, she loves science so much. Then it all went down.

But wait, there is more! A little bit later the power went off for good, in our street and in four more. Everything I had planned and prepared for weeks was now in vain. The picture presentation with all the wonderful pictures of my amazing daughter from birth to this morning. The birthday wishes videos from all our friends, family, and many surprising guests - voice and live-action actors from the TV shows and movies she likes and scientists she admires (although her favorite is her daddy, so he made her an additional video in his lab). And the quiz that had pictures of different stuff from our house, that asked guests what Riley turned that stuff into - she always has all these brilliant ideas, she takes some stuff and makes them into stuff like a grape-juice transportation machine, a comforter cannon, a backpack carrier and many more, usually with the help of our seven-year old, Sophie, or her best friend Michael. She's just amazing. And she deserves all of the things we had planned for her party today.

But it was all ruined, you wanna know why? Because of that jerk Kripke, a physicist who works for my husband who is Head of Department at Caltech. Some woman he was probably molesting told him to get deep down so that nobody could hear him scream, and that freak actually went and dug himself underground! He dug so deep and exactly where the electricity cables were damaged that he actually caused a power outage by peeing! What the frigg', right? And not only did he ruin the plans for the party, his freak-show had Leonard swamped with phone calls, having to apologize for his actions, instead of enjoying the party with Riley. Urrghh when I get my hands on that jackass I'm gonna go all Nebraska on his ass. He'll wish he had stayed underground until the day he died. Don't tell my kids I said that, we're trying to be consistent with the anti-violence thing.

And now Beverly Hofstadter. Funny how my last name sounds so different to me when it follows my name and my husband's and kids' names, than when it follows hers. With ours it sounds special, good special - loving, kind, trustworthy, Leonard. A name worth the embarrassingly long time it took me to learn how to spell it. With hers it's elitist, arrogant, soulless. Now Beverly Hofstadter was here. Fantastic. As if there wasn't enough going wrong with this party.

I know, I know. It was just a birthday party. Not that big a deal. But it's just that birthday parties are a good opportunity for me to give back to my family, in however small, humble amount, far far from comparable to all I receive from them.

You see, my family is so incredibly awesome, amazing, magnificent, wonderful, I don't think I'd ever have good enough words to describe it. They call brilliant minds beautiful, and given how brilliant my husband is, his mind may be one of the most gorgeous in the world. But I think it's not only beautiful for his intelligence, but also for his compassion, kindness, friendliness, and great capacity for loving. He is, no doubt, the best father I've ever seen or heard of, and a wonderful husband and friend. He makes me so happy, and we always make each other laugh. Okay sure, he has his jerk moments, and I wish he'd be more willing to work out, and to do stuff outdoors, oh and that he'd be less asthmatic, and that he'd either wash or throw away the stinky socks he wore when he met Stan Lee (that's a guy who wrote many of Leonard's favorite comic-books, I think) because I keep making the horrible mistake of opening that box he keeps them in. Ugh just the thought of that makes me want to throw up for three days straight. And lock him in the attic with those damn socks. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. Leonard has his flaws, but if he didn't have them he would probably be too perfect for me.

My kids also have gorgeous minds, for brilliance, love and kindness. They're so much his kids. Riley is such a good, loving, helpful girl. I may have a tough time with her when it comes to clothes (and shoes, and accessories), but we have so much fun together, no matter what we do. She's a funny little girl. And she is always there to help any family member or friend, maybe too much sometimes.

Sophie is my partner for shopping and outfit picking, she's just a little baby but she has a great sense of style. Like today, she was so adorable wearing her cute purple dress with the lace bottom-half, with her dark purple glasses and butterfly hair clips (the most "dressy" I got out of Riley was her white buttoned hoodie). She's also capable of learning every little detail about whatever she's interested in and making everything perfect (even the way her clothes hang in her closet), that's incredible.

Maxi, our three-year-old, is such a cheerful baby boy, and a true bundle of joy and cuteness. He's even more adorable when he has some "mission" to accomplish, he gets so serious about it. Just let me cuddle him all day and night and I'm good.

What did I do to deserve them? Nothing. nothing at all. This is the thing, I don't deserve my incredibly awesome, amazing, magnificent, wonderful family. Not for a tiny bit. And this is always crumbling inside me.

I know Leonard would say I'm talking nonsense. But I knew I didn't deserve him the day I met him. What did he have to do with this stupid community college dropout, a party girl who's only good for flirting with hot dumb jerks and can barely make ends meet with her lousy wage as a lousy waitress? Nothing really. Yet he was still there, all the time. He still came to me, and I came to him. He was there for me. _All the time._ Even when I rejected him, even when I broke his heart. So many times I broke his heart.

What a crazy, stupid bitch, right? Why would I reject him if I got so lucky to have him want to be with me? Well, that _is_ why. I knew I didn't deserve him, so I was sure it would all end just like that. I will put myself out there and have the most wonderful time of my life, only for it to be over in a blink. We will be going to be 'married forever', but it will not really be forever. He will come to his senses and leave me for someone on, or closer to, his level. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle this, so I didn't let it happen. Instead of running into his open arms I ran out of them. I rejected him, I broke up with him, I refused various proposals. Lucky for me, Leonard was persistent. He stuck through all of this. He didn't give up, and he let me have as much time as I needed to deal with my issues. Eventually, I did. Thank God I did. I can't imagine what would've happened if I didn't. None of our kids would even exist! I just can't think of that.

It's not that everything was a smooth ride from then. It's never a smooth ride anyway. After we got engaged, and then married, I still hadn't let all my walls down. Sure, they were much lower and they kept getting lower, but during our engagement and our very first years of marriage, every now and then I'd still drive him away instead of letting him in. This letting down of walls thing has been gradual for the most of it, but there have been points where big changes happened. The one which I'd say was the last, that kind of made the walls collapse, was when we found out I was pregnant for the first time, with Riley. It's like something switched inside me. This was it. It was the ultimate connection, the strongest connection Leonard and I could ever have, and one that was eternal. There was this tiny to-be-person that was us. And we weren't just a couple anymore, we were a family. Forever. And I couldn't keep walls between us anymore. And with that strategy out the door, I realized how idiotic that had been. Finally, I stopped running away from my incredible luck and instead grasped it tightly with both hands. Instead of pushing it away, I realized I should hang onto it as long as I have it.

Having no walls with my family and hanging onto them as best as I can means not only that I would not drive them away, but also that I would put my heart out for them, all open, and that I would do everything I could for them. It means I am giving them my all, no strings attached, no questions asked. It may not be what they deserve, but the best I can do. No less than the best I can.

So I was trying to do my best for my daughter's tenth birthday party (Her tenth birthday! Does anyone know how to stop that growing up thing?!). Sue me. I wanted to give her what she deserved, or at least what I could. But it all went downhill. She was not getting my all.

Last week she even got further from my all, all of them got far from my all. It was early evening and Leonard was at an important event for university seniors. Riley wanted to show me an experiment she was working on, but I told her she would have to wait some time. I was working on stuff for the fund.

Oh umm… the fund… Leonard and I have decided on starting this organization to get people to learn some science basics, and maybe get them to keep up with that. It's mostly about making people see that not all about science is awfully boring, that some things can help with their daily lives and are actually quite cool, so at least some of them won't be like I used to be and always shut it down (alright I still do that, I need something to make fun of my friends about, and I sometimes don't understand and am too tired for explanations, and some of it _is_ awfully boring!). Anyway, I won't get into detail, but that's what makes it so much harder than it seems, the detail. It turns out having an idea is one thing, but the execution is a whole other thing. It takes a whole lot of work. Leonard does and will do as much as he can (boy would I be in trouble had I had to do all the financial stuff!), but it is going to be mainly my thing. Leonard will soon be vice president at the university (he insists the other candidates have great chances of winning but trust me, I know), and while the president says they'd take care of it, we prefer that when he starts the job I won't keep working at the university's promotion team as I do now. We kind of had this idea for the fund floating in our heads for a while, so we decided this would be a good time to go for it.

So back to last week. Riley wanted me to see her experiment, but I was swamped with fund stuff. The next time I'd let my eyes wander away from the NGO site (that's non-governmental organization) I'd been reading, I saw her standing in the doorway. I asked her if anything was wrong, and she said she just wanted to check that I was okay, because it had been almost three hours since I told her I'd come to her room later. _Three hours._ I rushed out of the room to check on Sophie and Maxi. I hadn't made them dinner. Riley picked up on my worries, and told me that she'd already given them bowls of yogurt and fruit. I found them playing in the living room. I hugged my incredible little girl tight and told her how sorry I was and how amazing she had been. Sophie and Maxi joined the hug. Sophie then asked what I'd been doing, and Maxi wanted me to show them. We sat on the big couch in the middle of our living room, Maxi in my lap and Sophie and Riley leaning on my shoulders, and I started showing and explaining to them some of the NGO stuff. Being our amazing kids, they actually noticed some things I hadn't. The next thing I remember is Leonard waking me. The screen was still on, on the site, and the kids were spread on and around me, all asleep. Leonard kissed me and kissed their heads. He had that huge grin of his and said we were adorable. But I didn't feel adorable at all. I got sucked into my own business and didn't give my kids my all.

There's also another kid I am trying to give my all to, especially with things like birthday parties. He's an absolutely adorable little boy I once saw in a picture his dad found. His sweet little face beaming, with that huge grin of his. So happy, looking at a scone on a plate in front of him. I haven't seen many pictures of him, not many exist, but that's the only one in which he looks happy. "Oh yeah, my eighth birthday," Leonard said when he found me looking at the picture his dad emailed. "My dad just got home for a few days, between trips. He had a connecting flight going through England and bought himself some scones at the airport. My brother and sister weren't home, so he gave me the one he had left. I was so happy to finally have something resembling a birthday cake on my birthday. He didn't know it was my birthday so he was surprised at my reaction and also wanted to finish the film he had on his camera, so he took my picture. I think that was the best birthday I ever had as a kid." He smiled and rubbed my back before turning to take a shower (in our old apartment the bathroom was a few steps back from my desk). I was about to let out the tears I'd been holding, when he turned around and said, "Hey Penny, we will always celebrate our kids' birthdays, right?" I nodded, and he had that huge grin on his face. We would celebrate the heck out of their birthdays, I said to myself, rubbing my pregnant belly.

And now I had the woman who denied Leonard birthday parties right in front of me. I wished I could just make her disappear, but the best I could do was control her interactions with the kids and hope I'd get to Leonard before she did.

"Beverly, what a surprise," I started, smiling to hide my frustration, but she quickly interrupted.

"Penny, save the pleasantries. I am aware of my breaching of Leonard's terms. As I was granted permission, I would now like to speak to my grandchildren. Are you or your approved friends available to accompany me?" she asked. Although her tone was generally formal and lifeless, for a moment I thought I heard a slight, barely noticeable hint of tremor in it.

"Umm..yeah they're outside," I answered unsurely. Not that I didn't know where they were, but Beverly's presence and that hint of a tremor had left me so confused that I couldn't really process what I was hearing and saying, if that makes sense.

A moment after Beverly went out the door I finally realized something. She said she was granted permission, which meant…

I didn't get to finish my thought. Sophie just ran out the door, smiling at me on her way, and there after her was Leonard. The look on his face left no doubt. He had already seen Beverly. "Fu.." I whispered to myself, leaving that incomplete, remembering the many kids hanging around.

I quickly walked to Leonard, who was standing there, looking at the closed door like an agonized statue. I put my right hand on his chest and my left hand on his face, turning it in my direction. He looked at me, his face softer, but filled with pain. I hugged him tightly, and he hugged back, even tighter.

A few minutes later we let go of each other and I took him by the hand to sit by the kitchen island.

"Grape juice?" I suggested.

Leonard looked at me and we both smirked. If it were 11 years earlier I would have poured us both full glasses of wine. It's not that I was an alcoholic or something, but I liked my wine, especially when comfort was needed. When I got pregnant, actually a little before (to be on the safe side when trying), I switched to low-sugar grape juice, which if you ask my friends I am indeed addicted to (I could stop anytime! It'd just take some time to finish our current supply, and the emergency supply, and the back-up emergency supply. Besides, the kids love it so it wouldn't be fair to them). I still drink wine and the occasional beer, but that's only on weekend nights. I don't want to be any less focused with the kids.

"Just water," he said.

I opened the fridge and brought us little bottles, water for him and grape juice for me, and stood next to him.

After taking a sip I sighed and took his hand in mine, "Honey, I..." I didn't really know what to say.

He gave me a sad smile, caressing my hand with his thumb, "That's okay.."

"Tell that to your face," I joked.

He smirked, and then went back to that sad smile.

We looked out the kitchen window, observing the backyard where everybody was now hanging. Beverly was now speaking to Riley, with our friends Bernadette and Amy watching over her. We're lucky to have good friends who are like family to us. They might be..quirky, some more (some _much_ more) and some less, but they've got our backs.

After a moment of silence I dared to ask, "Do you know why she's here?"

Leonard gave me a rueful look, "Not really. She says she's here to attend her grandchild's birthday party, but she's probably looking for material for whatever new demeaning book she's writing."

I turned back to the window. Beverly was still talking to Riley, who now appeared to be telling her about the new picnic blankets she asked us to buy her as a present this morning, which were now spread on the grass. I noticed Riley was doing most of the talking, and while she (understandably) wasn't as sunny as she could otherwise be when talking about something she's enthusiastic about, she didn't seem very tense.

"Leonard," I said while turning to him.

He was looking blankly at his water bottle.

"Leonard," I leaned over the counter to be at eye level with him.

He snapped out of it and looked at me.

"I..I know you may not believe it, and you could be totally right, but I think your mom may have been telling the truth."

"What?"

I turned to the window again, watching her still talking to Riley, "I think she really did come here for Riley's birthday."

There was another long moment of silence, as we both looked out the window again.

"Hey, what about you?" he suddenly asked, rubbing my back when I turned to him.

"What about me?"

He gave me a 'come on' look. He knew I was upset for the party getting ruined, but I didn't want to talk about it earlier. Yeah, yeah, no walls, open heart, I know, but when I get too upset the opening is a little delayed. But after 14 years of marriage, four more as a couple, and about 21 years of friendship overall (man, we're old!), Leonard had learned how to deal with it. Kinda. Most times he knows when to stop asking and when to get back to it. He was right, I was ready to talk now, but I wanted to be the one comforting him. But that's Leonard, he'd be there for others even when he was the one having the harder time.

I sighed and leaned on his shoulder. "Why today? Seriously, that wacko couldn't pick another day to go on his journey to middle earth? You know, any other day I would be happy to help him get there, that would save you, no, _the world_ , lots of headaches, and nausea."

Leonard chuckled and kissed me on the cheek.

"I just can't believe everything we had planned went downhill. Poor Cub," I started, but was interrupted by the sound of the back door slamming.

"Daddy!" Riley called, rushing through the door with her own huge grin. A millisecond later she was hugging Leonard tightly from his right. She must have seen him through the window.

"Hey, Cub," he chuckled, squeezing her, then kissing her head.

She kissed him on his cheek. "Are you done with the phone calls?" she asked, still holding on to him tightly.

"Yes I am, I'm so sorry that I left your party to answer them, Cub, that is not okay."

"It's fine Daddy you had to protect the Department's reputation. But I'm so happy you're back. I love you, Daddy," she said, now softening her grasp and leaning on him, smiling.

"I love you so much, Cub," he softened the hug as well and kissed her head again.

With such a reunion you must be thinking he'd left for hours after not seeing her for days or something, but it was actually less than an hour, and the longest time he was away from home was five days, during which we had three video calls every day. It's just that Leonard and Riley have a really special bond. I mean, we each have a special bond with each of our kids, but these two are just something else. If you Google "Daddy's girl" they should turn you to my Cub. Riley _adores_ her Daddy, he's her hero and she'd tell that to anyone who'd listen. I've been asked many times if I were jealous, but I can honestly say I'm not. My daughter has the greatest father, why wouldn't she love him this much? In fact, I love them being this close.

A few seconds later they parted, and I could see Riley trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn't hard, the kids all have Leonard's "thinking frown".

"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"No sweetie, Daddy and I were just talking in private," I answered, I did not want her to worry about us.

"But Daddy seems tired and you seemed upset earlier and you have your own grape juice bottle when there's a big one outside…"

"Yeah, well Daddy had to take a lot of phone calls and I wanted to leave some grape juice for everyone else. You know we were just about to put on the candles and bring you your cake, and the birthday girl shouldn't be part of this. You don't want your wishes not to come true, right?" I smiled, Riley doesn't believe in higher powers but we do wishes and I wanted to stop her questioning.

"So I won't get my ten fancy pink dresses and ten pairs of matching fancy shoes with real diamonds and glitter and all that fancy stuff? Oh no!" she fake-dramatically cried, wide-eyed, trying hard to hold her laughter.

Leonard chuckled.

"Oh we're playin' with Mommy huh?" I squinted my eyes at her, smiling.

She nodded slowly, smirking.

"Oh, then Mommy's gotta react, come here you sassy little girl!" I grabbed her quickly and started tickling.

She squealed and laughed and soon yelled "I surrender! I surrender!"

I picked her up and kissed her forehead, then sat her on a chair by the counter, next to Leonard. "I think we could risk you helping with the cake," I said, getting one of her wonderful smiles. I'd achieved my real goal - she was not busy worrying about us anymore.

"Hey, what's that?" I heard Leonard ask, just as I put the lab-themed cake on the counter. He took a bunch of papers out of the trash, each with a unicorn or part unicorn on it.

I took one of them, "This is definitely Chubby's." (We call Maxi "Chubby" 'cause he was adorably chubby until he was two)

"Since when is he into unicorns?" Leonard wondered. Chubby usually draws science stuff or our family and sometimes friends.

"Hmm. I heard him ask Lizzie something about unicorns when Michael and I went out to the backyard," Riley recalled.

"I saw him leaving his room with papers and toy horses, and also a doll's cone and hair band," Leonard added.

"Well, we'll have to check on that later, right now we have a birthday cake to take care of," I reminded them.

About a minute later we were out with the cake, which I set on the table. Everybody gathered around, singing Happy Birthday.

I hadn't gotten to take a step back from the table when Riley took my hand, making sure that I wouldn't leave her side, doing the same with Leonard on her other side. Ever since her first birthday she has been asking for us to be by her side when she blows out her candles. Every year I worry that, being older, she won't do that, and every time she does I get emotional about it. My little big girl still wants me close to her. I wish this would go on forever.

I then felt something at my side. I didn't have to look to know it was Maxi, whom I put my other arm around. Sophie was settling next to Leonard.

My incredibly awesome, amazing, magnificent, wonderful family. I was never a very dedicated person, I was not one to put out too much, sometimes intentionally, as it scared the hell out of me. But for them there is absolutely no other way for me than giving my all.

* * *

 _ **A/N: "Oh umm… the fund…" - That's one of the things that will remain for the possible longer story, so there is more to it, but it won't be expanded on in this story.**_


	10. I wish

_**A/N: Well guys, this is it. The last chapter for "The Corollary Theory: The Celebration Abberation". This feels sad to me as I really enjoyed writing what was running in my head for a along time and more than that - reading what readers think and feel and chatting with them. I do hope this will not be the end of "The Corollary Theory", rather the beginning. As I said this is in essence an exposition story. I have many ideas for these characters in mind and a strong desire to write them down in a story that goes throughout the years. I don't want to make promises though so I'm not saying anything for sure. If I do get to write and decide to post the "main" story it may be around July/August so this will be a 3 months hiatus.**_

 ** _Thank you so much all who read, reviewed, followed and favorited. It was a pleasure to read reviews and chat with reviewers. Reviews are of course still very very welcome, including for previous chapters. Very special thanks to joyteach who did a wonderful job beta-reading._**

 ** _I do not own The Big Bang Theory, that is Lorre's and Prady's. Heck, I don't even own the car I drive (thanks grandpa!). I do own my 7 OCs and to some extent this story's Halley and Michael. As I previously stated, I may agree for others to borrow them or write a short piece in the Corollary world, PM me._**

 ** _For the last time for this story, here we go :)_**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: I wish**

 _[Riley.]_

My birthday party was coming to an end, and it was time to blow out the candles. Everybody gathered around and sang to me, my family and my family-of-heart (that would be everybody in "the gang", which has adults and kids, the Wolowitzes, Cooper-Fowlers and Koothrappalis, well except for Aunt Anaya who's in India but had video-called). Oh and Grandmother, Daddy's mother, which was…peculiar, as she doesn't come or call that often.

Being surrounded by family and "family", Mom and Daddy next to me and Sophie and Maxi next to them, like in a warm bubble of ours, was awesome. But I had a task now: making my birthday wish. I don't believe in higher powers but it's kind of a tradition to make a wish before blowing out the candles. Besides, while there is no clear evidence for the existence of higher powers, there's also no clear evidence against it - that is at the core of agnosticism. Taking my wish seriously doesn't hurt and may help, so that's what I do.

But that task is hard. There is so much I could wish for, and wishing for one thing I'd be letting go of another. I looked around me. So many people I love. So many people for whom I could make a wish.

Right in front of me was Aunt Bernie. I know one of the things that matter to her a whole lot is her work. She's a very successful microbiologist at a pharmaceuticals company. No one should mess with her when she's busy with work, I know this because I'm at her house a lot, she's Michael's mom. I thought that maybe I should wish she would do even better at work. Maybe if she does they will let her go to all of Michael's basketball games, she looked sad last time when she got there five minutes after the game was over.

Aunt Amy was next, standing to Aunt Bernie's left. I think Aunt Amy is worried a lot. Mom says she has a lot to handle, she never elaborates on that but I think at least some of it has to do with Tivo. It's not that he's trouble or anything. Tivo loves his mom and all his family, and us too. He really tries to be nice to others and understand them and their habits and ways of communicating and to get along with them. It's just that it's hard for him because he has ASD, that's a neuro-developmental disorder. He is a genius but social behavior is hard for him to learn, and he's also very sensitive to noise and touch, and it's also hard for him to change what he's used to. I think Aunt Amy is worried about him. I wish she could worry less. So I thought, maybe I should wish Tivo would learn more so she'd be less worried and wouldn't have to help him as much, and maybe he could help her more because he loves neurobiology.

That would be a good wish for Tivo too. I know he really wants to understand social behavior and also emotions, because he has problems understanding these as well. Maybe I could teach him more about that, after all we did agree three years ago that I'd be his pseudo-sister. Mom and Daddy didn't let Uncle Sheldon make an official agreement for that, but teaching younger siblings is an integral part of a big sister's job, isn't it? But what if I teach him wrongly? I'm only ten, I'm still learning myself. Maybe I could teach him how to learn? But what if my way of learning is not good enough for him? What if it makes it worse? What if it stresses him?

"Over-thinking there, Cub?" Mom asked, caressing my hair. I don't know how she notices that in times like this, when I don't say a word.

"Riles!" Michael whispered loudly. He signaled me to wish for the new Spiderman game, imitating Spiderman shooting strings and then checking his hand when it stopped and fixing it by shaking it. That was hilarious. Michael always makes me laugh. There is so much I could wish for him, as I know of so many things he'd like. There's the Spiderman game, actually every DC and Marvel game, and making the drone he has at home travel between our houses, and winning all his basketball games, and having thousands of fancy suits (but I'd add to that wish that he doesn't show me all of them because that is awfully boring!), and having a dog, and being old enough to see all the movies our dads see, and having Oreos for breakfast every day, and having a real lightsaber, and going to space like his dad did. There was more but I really had to choose my wish.

Then I thought, maybe I should wish for Michael and Uncle Howard (his dad) to go to space together? But I really hope we could have video-calls every day if they go because trips to space are long! Michael is my best friend, we're not supposed to be apart for _that_ long. Best friends are there for each other all the time.

But then I thought, maybe I should make a wish for Halley? Sometimes the solution to a problem is unpredictable. Me wishing for Halley would certainly be unpredictable, because Halley is...umm…she's not that nice to me. She...she calls me names and laughs at me and jokes about me in front of other kids at school, and she throws foods and drinks at me sometimes. It's kind of like that movie they were talking about one night in this celebrity show. They said in June it will be 25 years since it came out. Mom said she saw it when she was a teenager. Then they showed parts of it and of later TV shows and movies that had "mean girls", and these girls did things Halley does. But we never saw the end of it because Mom suddenly got mad and turned it off. She said these girls were "Stupid, brainless bees who are so lame that they only care about themselves and about getting boys that they don't have a clue about what's going on around them and what they do to others and what the others feel".

But I know Halley's not stupid, at all. And Michael told me she hugged him once when there was a leak of poisonous chemicals in their mom's lab and they didn't know if she were there (she wasn't), and last year she did makeovers for Kotie's friends at Kotie's birthday party, so she does care about others. I don't know what kind of bee my mom was referring to, but she kind of stumbled on that word so maybe she got confused. Sometimes when Uncle Sheldon is being stubborn or weird Daddy says it's because he's broken. So if Halley is not like Mom says, maybe she's broken too. Maybe she needs help. I thought maybe I could wish for her to get that help, even though I don't know what it is. What I do for now is just keeping all of that from the adults because I don't want them to punish her if she's broken, and I also don't want my parents to worry about me.

Then I thought of Uncle Sheldon. He was standing next to Lizzie (his daughter, who's three), who was kneeling on a chair next to Maxi. I know Uncle Sheldon really _really_ wants a Nobel Prize. I also know he wants people to recognize that Tivo and Lizzie are brilliant, and I think he's worried about them too, but more about Tivo. I didn't know what he would like better so I decided to move on and get back to it later.

To Uncle Sheldon's right, between him and Uncle Howard, was Grandmother. That might be harder to than quantum algorithms. Grandmother is _very_ peculiar. She is kind of..detached, like someone sucked most of her emotions out of her. She speaks kinda like the transport lines' announcer. And Daddy is always nervous around her. I think Mom is too but not as much. I don't get it, parents and kids usually love each other and they have fun together and they are happy to be with each other. And when we meet Nana and Papa (Mom's parents) they're very happy to see us and we're all happy to see them. I think something's wrong with Grandmother. But I really don't know what.

Sophie was between Grandmother and me, standing in front and a little left of Daddy, his left arm around her (his right arm was around me). As I turned to look at her she gave me a kiss on the cheek and I gave her one back. I love Sophie so much. I wish she was less shy, she is very shy and many times she freezes or hides or is very quite. That's a shame because Sophie has great ideas and she's kind and when she's being shy people miss out on that. That would be a good wish.

But what about Maxi? He's the youngest in my family so, I thought, maybe I should wish for something for him. But Baby Bro is happy most of the time. Maybe he would like Mom and Daddy to stop calling him Chubby. Or, I thought, maybe something about the unicorns he was drawing earlier? I had no idea what that was about.

I had no idea what Lizzie would like, maybe a new princess costume? Kotie would like that too, maybe a fancy princess dress for her birthday next month. Uncle Raj would sure like that. But both Uncle Raj and Kotie would probably like more that Aunt Anaya would be home already. Aunt Anaya is Uncle Raj's wife and Kotie's mom and she's in India right now. She'd probably want that too, or want India to be in the US, although then maybe it wouldn't be India anymore. It must be so hard having your spouse or daughter or mommy so far away, and for weeks at that!

I looked up at my mom, who was standing to my right, a little behind Maxi. Mom was all over the place today. She usually goes overboard on birthdays, so I wasn't surprised that they got so many decorations. I wasn't surprised either that her eyes got watery when she talked about me being ten and also now when we gathered by the cake, this happens every year. But she was upset for some reason. When I tried asking her about it she tried to distract me, so I left it, but I know she was upset. I wish she'd told me so that I could help her. I almost made up my mind to wish for Mommy to relax and be happy.

Last (but not at all least!) was Daddy. I so wish he would get the vice president position, he deserves it so bad. He's awesome. I wish he'd have more help if he did, so that he wouldn't have to take phone calls and we could spend more time together. You can never have too much time with your hero! I could also wish for him to have it better with his parents. Grandpa is nice and they get along much better than Daddy gets along with Grandmother, but he doesn't call or visit much either, and it's not like Mom and Papa. I don't get it, Daddy is the greatest daddy ever, he deserves to have the greatest parents.

As I looked down, thinking of Grandmother and Grandpa, I suddenly felt Daddy kiss my head. "What do you want, Cub?"

I looked at him, and then at the candles. What do I want? There are many things. But mostly, I want us all to be together and happy. Then it hit me, I had it! I leaned forward and wished for all of us to be always together and care for each other and help each other and be there for each other, always to love each other. That was a good hack. Mom and Daddy say that when you have a lot of love, the rest may fall into place eventually, even if you're very different (Mom said it works even for "the most Whackadoodly of the Wackadoodles"). That's a big theory, and I don't know about any experiments that had been done to prove this theory (or rather indicate the contrary is statistically improbable because you don't really prove such a theory), but they do say love is important and powerful in TV, movies and books, so it could probably be deemed "folk wisdom" (these are not always true but Daddy believes in this one so I'll take it). Happy with my hack, I blew out the candles.

We then had to cut the cake, which was a little saddening because it was such a cool cake. It was lab themed, coated with light blue sugar paste, with furniture made out of chocolate and beakers and lasers made out of candy and a projected pad made out of white chocolate with formulas written in chocolate syrup on it, one of them being the formula for the Powerpuff Girls: Sugar+Spice+Everything nice. That was awesome! Sophie told me Daddy baked it (which was great news, you don't wanna taste my mom's cakes!) and she and Mom made the decorations, with her making the smaller details (there's no one like my Sissy for that job!). At least Mom took a picture of me and the cake before cutting it.

The party was over soon after that. Uncle Raj and Kotie left first, they had to walk their new puppy, Ginger. The Wolowitzes and the Cooper-Fowlers left at about the same time. Michael and I wanted to keep playing pretend Mario cart, which we invented today because there was a power outage (that's when there's no electricity) so we couldn't play the actual game, but it was already past the extra extra last five minutes we were given. We decided we'd keep playing on Monday at school. It was Uncle Sheldon who was last to leave out of them, because he went back to scoop more ice cream.

After the door closed Grandmother rose from her place on a chair at the end of the living area, from which she'd been observing everything silently, kind of like a primatologist. "If you go by conventional party protocol, this would mark the end of the party. Thus, I will now be leaving. That is, unless you go by a modified protocol," she said, looking at Mom and Daddy.

Mom looked at Daddy, who went to open the door. "Goodbye, Mother," he said.

Grandmother nodded, "Very well." She came to stand in front of me, looking down from her tall height. "Happy birthday, Riley. Goodbye," she said in her announcer voice. She then hugged me awkwardly, she always does. She hugs like a robot.

She then did the same with Maxi and Sophie (only she didn't wish them a happy birthday). Strangely, she lingered when she pulled back from Sophie, just looking at her for a few seconds, as if she were trying to send her a message telepathically.

She said goodbye to Mom and shook her hand, as usual, and then walked to the door. She stood next to Daddy, then turned and said, "Well then, I will now be leaving for my room at Hotel Eastin, where I will be staying until Monday at 11:31 AM, at which time I will be leaving for my flight back to New Jersey."

"That is a lot of information about your location for the next day and a half, Beverly," Mom said, looking from Grandmother to Daddy. I knew she was trying to send him a message, but I had no idea what it was.

"I was trying to adjust to your conversational style," Grandmother said.

Mom and Daddy sighed. "Goodbye, Mother," Daddy said again. He seemed tired.

Grandmother turned to him. She'd usually either shake his hand or give him a quick, robotic hug, and it seemed like she didn't know which to choose. She stood there for a moment, with her arms moving very slightly back and forth two or three times. Finally, she gave him a hug, but it was a weird one, even for her. It was tighter than her usual hugs, but it was very very quick, as if she were afraid she would burn if she kept it for too long. She then walked out the door. Grandmother was at her most peculiar today.

Daddy closed the door and sighed again.

"Honey?" Mom called, making Daddy turn around. "Isn't the Eastin about one and a half miles away?"

"Closer to 1.7, why?" he answered.

"Leonard, there are no lines right now, there weren't any when she came here either."

They looked at each other. Maybe they were worried that Grandmother would get lost?

Suddenly, the lights went on. The repair people had probably finished fixing the electricity cables, so cool!

"Looks like we've got a new verse for 'Ironic'," Mom said. That's an old song about ironic things.

Daddy smiled his comforting smile and went to her and they hugged.

"Can we now work on the brushing, Sophie? There's light," Maxi asked.

"Sure!" Sophie said, smiling.

They turned toward the stairs when Daddy asked, "Brushing?"

"Yes," Baby Bro nodded, with his adorable serious face, "Sophie agreed to teach me how to brush her dolls' hairs so I could do it for Lizzie."

Daddy, Mom and I were dumbfounded.

"Why would you need to brush Lizzie's hair, Chubby?" Mom asked.

"I need to learn how to do things for her, that's what Uncle Howard said," he answered, "and I'm not chubby."

"Uncle Howard told you to learn how to do things for Lizzie?" Daddy asked. This was getting more and more puzzling.

"He said that's what one has to do to be good at marriage," Baby Bro answered simply. Sophie was now as puzzled as us.

"Let me get this straight, Chubby, you're learning to brush Lizzie's hair in order to be good at marriage?" Mom asked.

"Yes," he nodded.

"You do know you're three years old, right, Sweetie?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Chubby, you have many, many years before you get married," Daddy said, now standing next to Mom in front of Maxi.

"Oh I know, marriage is for old people, but it is a _big, big_ deal. Uncle Sheldon said it's mon..mo-nu-mental and he called Aunt Amy to talk to Lizzie after she said we will get married. So I wanted to start practicing now so I will be prepared when it happens."

After a second of silence, we all (except from Maxi) burst out laughing.

"Hey that is not funny!" Baby Bro pouted and crossed his arms.

"No, you're right Chubby, we're sorry," Daddy said, smiling and getting down on one knee to be at Maxi's eye level. He ruffled his hair and said, "We just think it is cute and charming, we can see you are very serious about it. Hey, does that have something to do with those unicorn drawings we found in the trash?"

"Yes, Uncle Raj told me you have to respect your wife's wishes to be good at marriage. Lizzie said she wished she had a unicorn, and at preschool they always tell us to draw what we learn or draw for our parents, so I thought if I'd draw a unicorn she'd know I respect her wish."

Daddy grinned, "Sounds like you did a lot of research."

"I did. I wanted to ask you but I didn't get to you."

Daddy sighed, "Yeah, I'm sorry for that, Chubbs. Look, we think it's great you are taking marriage seriously," he looked at Mom, who nodded, "but you will have plenty of time to prepare for that. Right now you should focus on doing kids' things, like watching cartoons, and building with blocks, and drawing whatever you want to, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

"Oh and Chubby," Mom added, "when the moment comes, _please_ , do _not_ ask for your uncles' advice. Just come to Daddy and me, okay?"

"Yes, Mommy," Maxi nodded.

Mom kissed his forehead.

Thinking of the drawings in the trash, I decided I had to archive my drone sketches.

"Something important there, Cub?" Daddy asked when he noticed me working my phone.

I grinned at him, "Michael has a drone at home and we thought of cool ways to use it, Uncle Howard is gonna help. I'm just archiving my sketches, I thought it would be cool to save what Michael and I do every birthday, so when we're old, like 35 and 36, or really really old, like 60 and 61, we could look at all of it and laugh because we'd probably have stuff like teleport machines and personal jets."

"We're going strong on planning ahead today, huh?" Mom said.

"It's not that big of a plan, all we need to do is to remember to archive stuff," I said. That wouldn't be hard at all.

"And spend your next 50 birthdays together," Mom added.

"Mom, that's gonna happen anyway," I explained, she was being seriously weird today, I mean, I had to remind her about the most obvious things! "Michael and I are forever."

She just stared at me blankly for a moment. "Michael and you are forever?" she repeated slowly, looking totally confused. Yep, she was all over the place today.

"Yes, we're BFFs, remember? That's Best, Friends, _Forever._ "

She seemed to understand now. "Oh, right. Well I hope it works out for you, Sweetie," she said, slowly putting a strand of my hair behind my ear. She looked at me for a moment, her eyes turning sad. She then sighed and went down on her knees, "Cub, I am really sorry about your party." She smiled a sad smile, with only the right side of her mouth up.

Now was my turn to be totally confused. I frowned, trying to understand, "Why?"

"Because it all went wrong. Everything we had planned.. Oh baby, we had so much planned," she shook her head, "but all you got was an unfinished science bowl and hours of no electricity," she sighed again. "At least the cake and candle-blowing went fine," now she had the sad smile on the other side.

"But, Mommy, everybody came, and we got to plan how to help the repair people and later how to thank them, which Daddy said we would do, and we played pretend versions of our games, and we thought about cool stuff we could make without electricity, and we made plans for the drone, and we spread the picnic blankets and you and I lay on one and did your guided imagination exercise, and Grandmother came and asked me what I was studying at school and what I was working on, she was weird as always but she did come and wish me happy birthday so that's good, and the cake was really really awesome," I grinned.

Mom seemed surprised, "Really?" She started to smile a real happy smile, which made my grin widen, I was so relieved that she was getting happy again.

"Yeah, it was an awesome party, Mommy! And so were the birthday kiss attack, and our breakfast, and birthday shopping, and Chinese lunch. And my birthday isn't over yet, so maybe after dinner you could show us the things you do for the fund again, like last week only this time with Daddy too, that would be _so cool!"_

Apparently Mom was still quite a mess, because she shook her head, her eyes getting watery again, cupped my face, gave me a _looong_ kiss on the forehead and then hugged me tight. But that was a good mess, I think. "You're incredible, Cub, I love you, so _soooo_ much," she said.

"I love you too, Mommy," I hugged her back. "Can Daddy and Sophie and Maxi join our hug?" I asked after a few seconds, I didn't want them to feel left out.

Mom chuckled, "They'd better, or they're getting only kale and spinach for dinner!"

They soon joined the hug, I sure would have!

Mom seemed much calmer and happier after that, and so did Daddy. I know they were really upset today, but our family hug was a good medicine for whatever it was.

Super-Mega-Giga dose of love coming at ya'! Yeah, that's a good hack!


End file.
